5 comments/ 16092 views/ 46 favorites Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 01 By: Altissimus Author's note: Warning: this is not a fairy tale. It is not my intent or design to offend, so please be aware that this story has been written for adults of a particular kind: it is unlikely to be everyone's cup of tea. This story contains non-human sex and non-consent/reluctance. There's even some voyeurism and a very small waterfall. If you are likely to be offended by this please read something else. If you don't want to read something a little dark, a little twisted, or longer than three quarters of a page, please return to your search criteria of choice. If you like it, please do remember to vote. If you don't like it, please feel free to forget to. Incidentally, parts two and three will be coming shortly, but for those who wish to know before they begin, this story stands on its own merits -- i.e. it has a beginning, middle and end. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: All characters herein are probably fictitious. Copyright © 2015. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorised use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author. * * * It was a Wednesday morning and every Wednesday, without fail, Red would visit her Grandmother. This simple, regular duty, uncomplainingly assumed, well reflected Red's nature: that of a generously spirited, happy, uncomplicated creature. Which is not to say she was dim or weak-willed -- far from it on both accounts -- just, perhaps, inexperienced in the darker ways of the world. But who might fault her that? Red's Grandmother lived over in the next village, a few miles' walk away. Early this particular Wednesday morning the sky was already clear and blue and the May sun shone down, pleasantly warming but not oppressive, promising a hot and memorable spring day. With great care Red prepared a bag for her Grandmother. She sang a song as she worked, her voice pure and strong, and the melody filled the small hut in which she lived with her mother and father (who, at that time, were both out working in the fields). Freshly cooked bread rolls, a fruit cake, oranges, apples and various vegetables were conscientiously checked for flaw or mark before Red added them to a wicker basked, and covered them with a soft cloth. Next, she turned to her own preparation: having bathed recently that morning she set about choosing a thin, white shift suitable for the warm weather outside, and tied her long hair into a high, loose pony tail, keeping her long hair free from her neck. Despite the warm weather she never neglected her long, red, hooded cloak, a gift from her mother some winters before. So attached had she become to that fine garment that she wore it every day, whatever the weather. She would swiftly argue that this was only practical -- it could just as easily shade from the hot sun as it could protect from rain, wind, sleet and snow. Her parents and the villagers smiled at this, but did not mock her -- Red's kind nature seemed to discourage even the most selfish from an unkind word -- but her affinity for her long red cloak, day in and day out, meant that not even her parents called her by her true name anymore: she was just simply "Red". Sweeping her cloak around her shoulders and her wicker basket up over her arm, Red left the hut, firmly closing the door behind her. Even with her early start it would take most of the morning to walk to her Grandmother's house but Red was quite used to the exercise. Her legs were long and her body lithe, her pace was good and on a day like this she relished being out in the fresh air. By far the shortest route to Grandma's house was through the forest that all but surrounded the villages in those parts; in fact, such was the size of the forest that it would have been impossible to avoid it completely, and who would wish to anyway? At this time of year the forest was a delight to Red: the smell of the pine trees combined with the spring flowers; the sounds of the animals or the rush of water down a stream; what was not to enjoy? A short way out from her village she entered the forest, still quietly singing her song to herself as she walked, yet she had taken only a dozen steps into the trees before she heard other voices -- male voices -- accompanying her melody. So rough was the singing and so mocking the tone that Red stopped her song immediately and showed no surprise as Raoul, Gerard and Liam stepped out from amidst the trees. Each wore the rough clothes of their woodsman trade and no doubt their large axes were close at hand. Gerard, who Red thought was possibly not quite right in the head, had emerged behind her -- yet despite his large size she did not fear him, because with a strong enough word he would always do as he was told. It was for this reason that he was often found with Raoul who callously manipulated the simpler man. Liam was approaching from her left. Red did not care for him even though she tried very much to see some good in all folk, but he was a thin, weasel-y man and always seemed to wear a sneer. Even now he looked at Red as though she were a mouse to be crushed beneath his boot, or a dog to be kicked. Liam made her particularly uncomfortable but it was Raoul she turned to face: even in her relative naivety she recognised him as the dangerous one. Raoul leant against a tree, his arms folded across his chest. His axe rested, propped up against the tree, and Red suspected that as usual it had not yet been used that day; instead it would've been Gerard's axe that had done Raoul's share of the work. Red found Raoul to be an imposing man: he was strongly built and his arms and shoulders were huge, helped no-doubt by his profession over the years. Yet despite these attributes his brow was sharply angled, giving him a primitive look, and his features had not been kindly bestowed. His small, mean-looking eyes regarded Red with a cunning intelligence that she feared would not bode well. Distracted as she was by his sudden appearance Red failed to notice Raoul's large black dog, Rufus, who often accompanied him. The dog was easily Red's superior in weight, his large frame all fur and solid muscle, and in height came above Red's waist. Rufus bounded out from behind his master's legs and barked twice at Red who took a step back, startled, her hand flying to her mouth. At this Raoul and Liam laughed, a cruel sound. Gerard only smiled a small smile, his eyes vacant. Liam stepped towards her. "What's in the basket, little Red?" he asked, taking a swipe towards her hamper, but she twisted, pivoting away, leaving him flailing stupidly in empty air. Raoul stepped closer too. "What's under the cloak, li'l Red?" he leered, grinning as Red glared at him. "You will never know that, Mister Raoul," Red replied, her voice steady despite the apprehension she felt, "and you will be wise to stay away from me as my father has already reminded you." Raoul's leer disappeared at this, to be replaced by a scowl. "Your Da oughta be careful what he says to me," and his hands formed into fists. Liam tried again to grab Red's basket, and she only narrowly avoided him. Liam was looking increasingly frustrated. "My father will say to you whatever he feels appropriate!" she threw back at Raoul, side-stepping another of Liam's lunges. She turned on Liam. "Have you no shame? This is a hamper for my Grandmother!" Again she stepped back, but this time she had stepped close to Gerard and she was not quick enough to realise her mistake. "Grab her, Gerard," ordered Raoul, and Red felt his hands close on her shoulders. For a man slow in the head he could certainly move quickly enough. For a brief, wasted moment she struggled futilely, her strength a fraction of his, and in that moment Liam clutched the basket and pulled it from her arm. The soft, clean cloth spilled out and crumpled to the ground, and two of her mother's freshly picked apples rolled from the hamper and fell into the dirt of the forest floor. "Take your hands off me, Gerard!" Red shouted, one small foot stamping in a way that may have been humorous had she not so obviously been livid. She felt Gerard's grip loosen in confusion and fought to slip free. "Don't let her go, Gerard," snapped Raoul and Gerard tried to grab her again, but Red was already twisting out of his grip. Gerard's fingers caught in the fabric of her shift and the material ripped, tearing at her shoulder. Both Liam's and Raoul's eyes widened at the sound, but only the briefest flash of Red's smooth, pale skin was exposed. "How dare you!" cried Red, turning on Gerard as one hand collected the torn garment that had fallen from her shoulder and held it in place. Gerard looked confused, looking to Raoul for direction. He did not want the young girl to be cross with him -- he had not intended to tear her dress -- but he feared also that Raoul would admonish him for letting her escape. Red realised it was not Gerard who was to blame and turned her ire towards Raoul, "My father will hear of this!" "I warned you, girl, your Da needs to be careful," Raoul growled, his anger making him uglier still. Red knew that her father was more than a match for Raoul, but for a moment she wondered if Raoul would be foolish enough to risk attacking her father if he thought he might catch her father unawares. She looked from Raoul to Liam, who was slowly tipping the contents of her carefully-packed hamper onto the forest floor as he searched the basket for the valuables he had assumed it contained, and in a flood of disgust and fear she turned and ran into the forest. * Red ran through the trees, swiftly leaving the three men behind. Angry tears came unbidden and her fists clenched as she ran. Those three men! So thoughtless and cruel! And they had taken what she had prepared for her grandmother! On Red ran through the forest, her cloak trailing behind her. She had spent so many days here that she well knew its secrets and smallest paths, and even in her distress at some level she knew where she was and where she was going. She ran to put as much distance between her and those men as she could, and she ran without care, her eyes bleary from tears. As she ran she felt her shift catch on a bush, a thin branch whipped across her bare shoulder raising a fine welt on her smooth skin, and her arms and legs were scratched by brambles and thorns - yet she didn't stop. At last her flight brought her to her favourite place in the forest: a small, tranquil glen well off any travelled path and well hidden by a thicket around much of it. The clearing was comfortably covered in mossy grass and small spring flowers, and to one side one of the forest's many brooks rolled refreshingly over glistening rocks. Red collapsed on the mossy ground exhausted, her breath laboured. The soft moss was soothing against her scratched skin and as her breath returned and her pulse steadied, she felt the sting of the welt on her shoulder and smaller cuts on arms and legs. Her anger had left her and only sadness remained. She knew her grandmother would understand and the old lady would not go hungry this week, but what a waste it was! She remembered watching her carefully prepared basket being emptied by Liam into the dirt of the forest floor, and one small hand struck the soft mossy ground in frustration. She allowed herself some moments of indulgence to vent her emotions before deciding enough is enough. "Pull yourself together, Red," she said out loud - all the better to tell herself. She slowly stood, examining her shift as she did so. The tear at her shoulder was quite repairable, and she noticed she had torn it in one or two other places during her wild run in the woods. She sighed, but it was nothing she couldn't fix with needle and thread. Her bare arms were scraped and scratched, but only the welt on her shoulder hurt and that but mildly. Her legs were similarly scratched in one or two spots, but had generally faired better. Her knees and hands were darkened with good old forest dirt and her run had caused her to perspire in the day's heat. She eyed the nearby inviting brook. She could not go to her grandmother in this state, and it would hardly be the first time she had bathed in this particular brook, nor would it be the last. Red carefully unfastened her cherished cloak and laid it on the mossy ground, grateful that she had not damaged that at least. Kicking off her boots she untied the string around her waist that loosened her shift and pulled it up over her head, dropping it too on the ground. The sun felt soothing on her bare skin, and she paused for a moment, luxuriating in the warmth, before bending to slip her underwear down her legs. Red stepped naked from her clothes, feeling the delicious thrill of nudity while outside, and walked step by small step to the stream running but a few yards away. The stream was only a dozen yards wide and not particularly deep, but Red knew that a natural pool formed just below the rocks, deep enough to bathe in, and the water splashing over the stones created a small waterfall effect that would play pleasantly over her skin. She stepped into the shallow edge of the stream then plunged into the far deeper pool, allowing herself a shriek at the initial coldness of the water. Red swam a stroke or two then came to her feet and waded through the water towards the rocks. The water came up barely over her waist and again she felt the warm sun and a very faint breeze mingling delightfully on her wet skin. She turned so the water fell on her shoulders and neck, briefly stinging the welt on her shoulder before soothing and massaging, splashing down pleasingly over her breasts, her nipples tight from the cold. Red quickly washed herself clean of the forest, feeling her scratches and grazes soothed by the bath, but yearning now more for the warmth of the sun than the coolness of the stream she swiftly finished and swam the few yards back to the shore. Red stepped out of the stream and stretched in the sun, feeling it slowly warm her skin as she dried. She walked back to her clothes and lay supine on her cloak, looking up at the sky, shading her eyes from the sun. It was a most beautiful day and she was refreshed from her earlier encounter. Now she was able to put it behind her, and simply enjoy the gentlest of breezes tingling her skin and the sun shining down. Alone in her glen with just the sun and spring flowers for company, the thrill of her nudity and the feel of the elements around her, Red succumbed to the call of her body. Closing her eyes she traced her hands down over her form, feeling her skin now mostly dry; she was conscious of being damp in only one place, and one hand moved to explore while her other rose to cup her breast. A small sigh slipped from between her soft lips. * Raoul was not happy. The little Red bitch had goaded him, insulted him -- all but threatened him with her impotent father. Raoul knew he should just stab her Da in the back one night and bury the body in the forest. He wondered why he hadn't done it already, then Red would be his. Instead she had been held helpless by that moron Gerard for all of a minute, and now she had fled into the wood. Raoul growled. Liam ignored him, still picking through the contents of that pointless old-woman charity, but Gerard looked up, worried that Raoul would be angry with him. So he should be, Raoul thought. If only he'd held on to her a moment longer. But now she'd escaped...ran into the woods....all by herself...alone. Quite alone. Raoul contemplated the various possibilities that would arise were he able to find Red, alone as she was, deep in the forest. But he knew the chances of actually doing so would be slim -- he could track quite well, but the forest was vast. If he was going to try he must do so now, while he might still catch her. "Liam, look after Gerard and Rufus. I'll be back in a while." Liam looked up in surprise, "Wha...?" but Raoul was already running. "You don't want any of this food?" Liam called after him, but to no response. He shrugged at Gerard, "More for us then." Gerard seemed happy. The bitch couldn't be that difficult to track. Raoul might not be a hunter but he was a woodsman, and if there was one thing he knew it was this forest. She had run through there...so she can't have gone that way...Raoul made a swift judgment and continued to run, looking for signs he was heading right. But he saw no sign to encourage. Frantically Raoul searched for indication that Red had passed this way. He mustn't lose her, lose his chance with her. She could've gone anywhere. The chances of finding her... Raoul stopped, something catching his eye: a scrap of material caught on brambles, torn on the grasping thorns. Raoul carefully picked the scrap free of the thorns and lifted it up to the light. Then he smiled, and pushed the torn fragment of Red's shift into his pocket. Raoul moved on, more slowly now, his initial guess of her direction of flight had been confirmed as accurate and he could not be far behind her. He was careful not to lose her trail, checking for signs of bent branches, broken twigs. Once he almost lost the signs completely, but another wisp of torn shift fabric caught his eye, telling him that nothing could stop him now: he would find her, he would have her. And then, just at the edge of his hearing, a high, brief, girl's shriek. Red. Raoul raced towards the sound, only to find a deep thicket blocking his way. To go around might mean he would lose his bearing: the thicket was too dense through which to see. Going within was slower, but surer. He made his way painstakingly through the thick brush, careful not to become entangled and careful to not lose his bearing on the sound he had heard, when he began to hear another sound: running water. Slowly Raoul worked his way betwixt the thick bushes until, separated only by a few branches, he spied Red's secret glen. His eye was caught to the bright red of her cloak, discarded against the mossy green, then he spotted her white shift too. A small thrill passed through him, wondering what -- if anything -- this left her wearing. Quickly his eyes found the stream, and then the naked Red within. Raoul could not believe his fortune as he watched his prey, unknown, helpless, sitting in the water as it splayed down over her shoulders and her naked breasts -- and such breasts! --firm and white and vulnerable, and topped with the pinkest, tightest nipples. She was his now. There was no one around, no one to stop him. Clearly she would return for her clothes. He would wait for that moment and surprise her. Meanwhile, he could be patient -- oh, so patient, with a view like this! He watched her wash herself, unbeknownst making herself ready for him. Her small hands caressing and cleaning her breasts, the very breasts that soon he would bite into and make her whimper. Raoul slipped one hand into his slacks and caressed his hard erection, his manhood straining with anticipation of the delights that were soon to befall him. Now she was moving: he watched as she swam across the stream and stepped perfectly naked from the water, mere yards from where he currently waited, hidden. Not to spoil this too soon, he thought, and moved further behind the thicket he was in. The opportunity was too good, too rare and too perfect to spoil with rushing or being seen before he so chose. Raoul watched hungrily as Red paused to stretch, her perfectly naked body on display to his eyes. He took in her womanly hips and young, firm flesh, the small triangle of sparse hair above her vulva, and the pouty lips of her womanhood. He couldn't be certain but it looked almost as though she was already aroused for him. It was nearly too much to bear. Red moved towards her clothes and lay down on her cloak. Raoul could hear her sigh, he was so close, and he held his breath lest he betray himself too soon. He knew he could afford to bide his time; there was no way for her to escape him now, and, until she thought to get dressed, he was prepared to see what would happen next. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 01 Raoul watched, delighted, as Red began to caress her body, her hands cupping and squeezing her breasts before stroking slowly down her flanks. He had a perfect position to watch as her hips angled up slightly, her legs spreading, and one hand dipped between her thighs. This was too good! The girl who had always spurned his advances playing with herself for his pleasure! If only he could have seen her spread open for him...but he would, in mere moments. Her other hand came up and squeezed her breast, one fingertip flicking over her hard, ever-so pink nipple, and a small sigh escaped through her parted lips. Raoul smiled to himself as he watched her display, imagining the moment when he revealed himself to her and saw the look on her face as she realised that she had put on such a wanton exhibition immediately before him. As he continued to watch her hand moving between her legs, touching herself, stroking herself, her other hand caressed down over her flat stomach and then back up to her other breast to squeeze and massage it in turn. Her hips begin to move of their own accord as her climax approached, her young, supple body writhing with passion, and still she believed herself to be alone. * The wolf had travelled for several days, looking for a new place to call home. The forest stretched for miles and miles, covering the land, and this suited the wolf perfectly. He was keen to put much distance between himself and his old pack, but at the same time he loved the forest and did not wish to leave it. No, space was a good thing...but not a complete change of scene. Food has been plentiful on his travels but he hadn't seen any other wolves for some time now, and certainly none of the kind that interested him. That too was a good sign: it meant that he could start a new pack here without worry of competition. For that, of course, he would need a mate. The wolf's meandering thoughts were interrupted by the very timely shriek of a female, albeit a human one, not far away. The shriek did not sound particularly distressed, but it might be worth exploring. In any event his sensitive nose informed him that there was water in the same direction, and a drink would be welcome. A few moments on and the wolf padded down to the banks of the stream not far from where he heard the shriek, and lowered his head to take a long, cool, welcome drink. Then came an intriguing scent caught but fleetingly on the air. The wolf's head came up, and his piercing blue eyes looked across the brook, searching for the source of the fragrance. A convenient rocky outcropping created a natural ford only a short way down stream, and this was always preferable to the wolf than the prolonged smell of damp fur. The wolf loped down the bank keen to see if he could find that elusive smell again, and cursing that he was clearly up-wind of his target. He considered circling around, but decided to wait to see if he could catch the scent once more. The wolf padded down to the rocky ford and began to make his way across the stream. It wasn't particularly wide and very shallow across the rocks, yet he picked his step carefully, lest a loose stone cause him to get wetter than he wished. And then the scent came again, though far stronger this time. The wolf's head came up and he looked across the stream. He did not need to be down-wind of an aroma as strong and invigorating as this, travelling as it was on the air. And its source was clear -- she lay, nude, in a mossy glen just yards away from where he currently stood mid-stream, her body squirming beneath her own touch, her eyes closed in passion. She had not seen him yet. The wolf crept closer, his natural stealth aided by the gurgle and burble of the flowing water, approaching until he paused just before her, and now his eyes were fixed on the girl. She was clearly in the process of pleasuring herself, her fingers sliding between the moist folds of her sex, and was, if his nose did not deceive him, close to climax. The essence of her filled his nose so completely that he could not even smell the flowers beside her. And suddenly, somehow, she knew he was there. Her eyes flew open and looked directly into his. * Red had been blissfully enjoying her stolen moment of self-pleasure, and yet some primal instinct had caused her to open her eyes and lift her head. Then Red had frozen, terror striking deep inside her, a feeling of immense vulnerability in finding herself not only completely naked but also in the midst of a deeply personal and intimate act, and now faced with a wolf as large as she could possibly have imagined. His piercing ice-blue eyes looked straight into her from a distance of mere feet, and his thick, jet-black fur did nothing to mask the breadth of his chest or the ripples of sleek muscle. He was easily larger than the largest dog she had ever seen, including Rufus. The wolf took another silent step towards her, and still she couldn't move. She opened her mouth to scream, but it died in her throat with the realisation that no one would hear, she was alone with this creature, and she did not even know if a scream might provoke the beast in some way. Red had never seen a wolf before. She did not know how large they might grow, or their habitual behaviour, or whether or not she was about to be eaten alive. But she felt her faculties returning and she desperately tried to control her urge to flee, to still her racing heart. The wolf took another step closer and now it was almost between her feet, towering over her. Abruptly Red was conscious that her most intimate place was on display to the wolf, and not only that but aroused and open too. She slowly began to close her legs, to cover herself. The wolf growled. The sound seemed to start deep inside of him and build and build. Red froze, terrified. The wolf's growl only seemed to increase. Certain that in moments he would pounce on her and eat her, she did the only thing she could think of: she slowly parted her legs again. At once the growling lessened, but was still emanating from the wolf like a rumble of nearby thunder. Red spread her legs even more, as if to pacify, to make amends for daring to move without permission. The wolf's growl subsided. This did nothing to still Red's racing heart and convince her she wasn't about to be eaten. The wolf stepped between her legs, lowering his head. Red remained frozen, not daring to move but unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes that held hers bound. Her gasp caught in her throat as she felt the wolf's fur brush against her inner thigh, then she felt the wolf's breath on her most intimate, wet, aroused and vulnerable place. Still his eyes held hers captive, and she dared not even lower her head back to the ground on which she lay. * Raoul had noticed the wolf only seconds before Red had, and he too had been paralysed with fear. Where had the damn beast come from! And so silently! And so large! Raoul had seen wolves before, but never remotely one this big. It wasn't even natural! It couldn't be! It took him a long moment to even remember he had left his axe back with Liam and Gerard, but a much shorter moment to acknowledge that, even if he had his axe, nothing in the world was going to make him take on a wolf that big. He resigned himself to the fact that the wolf would kill Red and ruin Raoul's fun, but that was a small price to pay if he could somehow escape with his life. Raoul remained frozen, unable to look away. * The smell of the girl was intoxicating, and what a rush to the wolf's head! As he lowered his nose closer to the centre of her he smelt her sex, her fear, and the sweet underlying scent of her flesh, and he had to admit they all exhilarated. He pushed his nose into the centre of her, wanting to wallow in the scent that was this girl, wrap the smell of her around him and keep it for ever. Red let a strangled gasp escape as she felt the wolf's wet nose push roughly against her sex. Was this it? Was she about to be eaten? She desperately grabbed at the rags of her courage and sanity. The wolf couldn't resist. He had to taste; smell wasn't enough. He extended his long, thick tongue and licked her from the very juncture of her thighs up over her open sex, pushing his tongue inside the folds of her, then up on and over, licking all of her womanhood. Red gasped and thrust her head back, her eyes closing at the almost unbearable intensity of the invasion, the alien feeling of the wolf's tongue against her and inside her, and when her body was already so aroused, so sensitive! Nothing she had ever experienced had prepared her for such a feeling -- she wasn't a virgin; granted, not particularly worldly, but she had known a man or two -- but never, ever had it felt like that. And then the wolf did it again. And again. Red writhed uncontrollably under the assault of the wolf's tongue. The over-stimulation of the onslaught, the headiness of the combined fear, subjugation and sexuality of it all. The knowledge that if she tried to flee he would probably kill her -- that he might kill her anyway, at any moment, and her only chance to survive would be to comply, to obey, to submit completely. And yet...that tongue! That feeling, deep inside her, deeper each time...Red felt her orgasm break over her, and her release flood the core of her, into the wolf's mouth. The wolf had licked the girl only three or four times before her body had shuddered beneath him and her delightful pussy had clamped hard down on his probing tongue. It had taken him a moment to squirm free of her, so strong had she clenched on his invading tongue. It had caught him by surprise and he had briefly pulled back, but now again he pushed forward with his long tongue - all the better to taste her. The sweetness of her release was even headier than the previous taste of her, and the wolf lapped hungrily at all of the liquid pleasure she offered. She continued to writhe beneath him, her hands clutching at the red cloak on which she lay, and her hips pushing up as he lapped at her. * Raoul was mesmerised. The completely unexpected turn of events, the raw sexuality of what he was observing and the sheer fact that neither he, nor Red, had yet been devoured. Despite his fear at the wolf's arrival, Raoul had felt his manhood growing again, and watching the girl so wantonly offering herself to the wolf was a pleasure he could not possibly have foreseen. Hidden silently in his thicket, he watched on. * Having for the moment licked his full the wolf stepped back, considering this female creature that he had encountered. She lay, supine, regarding him with wide eyes. At some level it amused the wolf that she was unwilling -- or unable -- to look away; save for that moment when her passion forced her to close her eyes. He paced around her, inspecting her. He held her gaze with his, then reached in and thrust his nose beneath her armpit, smelling her. She made a noise. Her face was interesting...he licked it over once or twice. But really it was her pussy he wanted more of. He was large enough to stand astride her, and, having licked her face, he ran his long tongue down her skin simply to taste her in a different way, before arriving once more at the potent source of her sex. Red had lain motionless as the wolf had inspected her, not daring to move. She couldn't believe the size of him. It was clear that she was helpless to do anything to resist. The wolf had driven her to the limit of her sexual euphoria with his tongue, and she was still shaken from that. Yet now he was thrusting his nose into her...and then he was licking her face. Red felt his smooth-yet-rough tongue all over her face, but it wasn't unpleasant. Then his marvellous tongue snaked down over her body and recommenced its assault on her sex. Yet now the wolf stood astride her, and Red has no choice but to notice the sheer masculinity of the beast that towered over her. His long, thick wolf-cock protruded from its furry sheath in a state of arousal, and, as he stood astride her, it was directed towards her mouth. Surely this was accidental? Surely this wolf could not have intended for this? Red was not sure if this was an opportunity to appease and perhaps live, or a very fast way to provoke a fatal conclusion, but she opened her mouth. The wolf licked again at her inflaming pussy, the scent and taste of her filling his head completely, and he revelled in the intensity of it. Then he felt her mouth on him, enveloping him, her tongue caressing him, and he growled with the surprise and thrill of it, his hips involuntarily thrusting towards her. Red froze as again he growled, her mouth full of him, the strong taste and saltiness of his wolf pre-cum coating her tongue and filling her senses, but he did not pull away and his sharp teeth did not tear at her body. Instead his hips thrust towards her, and she opened her mouth to accommodate as much as she could, feeling his wolf-cock slide deeply within her mouth and into her throat. The wolf lapped at her pussy, trying to drink as much of her as he could while it gushed forth her arousal, but the feel of her mouth around him as he thrust into her combined with the taste and smell of her was growing so strong...his hips begun to thrust faster. Red felt the change as his hips begin to fuck her mouth, and she couldn't even begin to control it or restrain it. Red desperately tried to open her mouth and throat to him, hoping that he wouldn't hurt her in the process, yet at some level she knew he was capable of so much more power and was still restraining himself. That knowledge meant that the wolf was deliberate in its acts, in control...and fucking her mouth. Red's realisation exacerbated the helplessness, sexuality and vulnerability of her state in her mind, emphasising that she was the play thing of a wild animal and nothing she could do would change that. He was going to use her as he wished and the best she could hope for was to survive -- but the best way to survive was to become a willing participant in her own sexual use and degradation. She shuddered half in revulsion and half in arousal at the situation in which she had been forced, and her next orgasm crashed down around her. The wolf felt Red's orgasm through her mouth around him and also under his tongue, and again her sweetness flooded his senses. It was Red's turn to taste release, as the wolf gave forth and filled her mouth. Red tried desperately to swallow, wolf-cum filling her mouth and throat as spurt after spurt shot from him, but there was simply too much and it spilled from her mouth around him, covering her face, neck and breasts. As soon as he had finished the wolf pulled back and Red watched him as he walked a short distance away, his unsheathed wolf-cock pointing out from between his legs. She wondered if he were done with her. * Raoul looked on in amazement as the bitch deliberately took him into her mouth. He would've almost thought she had encountered the wolf before, were it not for her obvious fear at his arrival. Yet the wanton way that she offered herself to him, serviced him, made it perfectly clear that she was a willing participant in this act. He watched as she sucked him, and as she squirmed from his licking, clearly reaching climax more than once. This girl, who had spurned his advances again and again, was clearly willing to do anything at all for this wolf. It was oddly obscene, yet also so primitively, basely sexual. It was a wolf's dominance over a girl's submission, and it was the most arousing thing Raoul had ever witness. Even the few times he had held down a village girl for Rufus paled into insignificance compared to the lustful carnality of what he now observed. The wolf's hips moved faster, fucking Red's hungry little mouth, and Raoul knew that he was about to cum inside her. Red clearly recognised it too as she tilted her head a little, opening her throat to the wolf, and Raoul saw the moment of climax and the copious volume of wolf-cum that spilled from the wench's mouth, covering her face and neck, even as she clearly swallowed what she could. At that moment Raoul knew that, should he get his chance, Red would be made to pay, in every way possible. * Red lay, catching her breath, the not-unpleasant taste of the wolf still filling her mouth, and the repercussions of several large orgasms still racing her pulse. She sat up slowly, feeling the remnants of his cum on her skin and found his ice-blue eyes watching her. The wolf walked around her, never taking his eyes from her. Once again Red was made to feel helpless, like prey in a cage. "What is it you want, Mister Wolf?" she asked softly as she watched him pace, but no sooner had the words been spoken he began to growl at her. Red pushed herself back from him, but in two lazy bounds he had moved behind her, and once more emitted his deep growl. "I don't know what you want!" she cried, hearing him behind her, and not sure if she should move or stay still. Staying still had kept her alive so far, and so she waited, sitting on her cloak, her knees tucked up under her chin. The wolf walked around her, performing a full circle, watching her, a deep rumbling growl coming from him all the while. She watched him in exchange, wondering if after all of this she still was about to be eaten. He was all fur, muscle and teeth...and then she realised that he was one other thing too. His wolf-cock was still out from its sheath, swinging beneath him as he walked. Was he not satisfied? Did he want more from her? Could she give more? She didn't even know how she could manoeuvre herself beneath him to use her mouth again. Red sat still, arms wrapped around her legs, trying to work out what to do. The wolf moved first, walking around her then turning and pushing at her with his head. The wolf's head was closer to the size of a horse's than a dog's, and the sheer strength behind it meant that Red was easily toppled to her side - where she lay, still not sure what to do. Again, the wolf's nose pushed in, this time against her back, trying to direct her. Red suddenly realised what was demanded of her. "Please, Mister Wolf...." she begged, "Please don't!" Her pleas were met only with a marked increase in the volume of the wolf's growl. "Please, Mister Wolf," she tried again, and he snapped at her. Red reeled back in shock, the teeth of the wolf having missed her skin by mere hairs. Instinctively she made to move to her feet again, and the ferociousness of his warning growl stopped her frozen. Red knew he hadn't finished with her, and knew what he wanted. If she was to survive this, did she have a choice? Slowly, she moved on to all fours. The wolf walked around her, his nose probing against her flanks, then her ass. He licked at her once, trailing his tongue around her side, then he padded behind her. Red stayed still, kneeling on hands and knees, waiting, compliant, subservient. The wolf pushed his nose into her from behind and licked her pussy again, though this time the lick continue on up over her ass. Red gasped and felt her arousal levels race upwards. Again the wolf licked, and Red's body responded in the most base of ways. Humiliated and ashamed, Red felt her body respond to the wolf, flooding her pussy with liquid arousal. Again his nose prodded her, and almost unbidden Red felt her ass rise, and her head sink to her arms on the ground. Only then did she realise what her subconscious already knew: that she was offering herself to the wolf. He needed no further invitation. Mounting his prize the wolf climbed over Red, his furry belly softly caressing her back and derrière as a gentle prelude to the assault that was to come. Red whimpered in anticipation -- half fear, half arousal -- and a small part of her mind wondered if those two states weren't actually deeply connected. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 01 Red felt the wolf's cock push against her, sliding against her thigh and slipping beneath her pussy. The wolf growled, and it wasn't a warning but an instruction. Quickly, before the wolf was further angered, Red reached beneath her own body and grasped the wolf's cock, feeling the slick member slide against her as he pulled back his hips, and, with Red's help, thrust inside her. The shock and force of the penetration made Red cry out, feeling her pussy stretched wide by the length and girth of the wolf-cock inside her, his cock filling her completely and pushing up against her cervix. She had but a bare moment to acclimatise before the wolf's instinctual thrusting began. Red shrieked again and again as the wolf pounded into her, but the pleasure just managed to edge out the pain and she rode the storm of his desire, feeling him thrust inside her with a depth and a speed that was beyond compare. Red realised that she was being fucked by a wolf, and that she had made herself open to him and even helped him enter her, and that he was making her his bitch and there was nothing she could do about it; but that moreover there was nothing she wanted to do about it. And it was as if that realisation married her mental state to her physical state, control and dominance and humiliation to arousal and penetration and subjugation, and suddenly orgasm after orgasm hit her, and all she could do was brace her head on her arms and surrender her body to the wolf's dominance. The wolf pushed himself into the sweet tenderness of the girl's body, again and again, then he felt her shudder and tremble beneath him, and her pussy was clamping down on his cock, pulling him, milking him, and for the second time he released into her. The feel alone of hot spurts of wolf-cum filling her body pushed Red into the deepest orgasm she'd had, and she cried out with uncontrolled passion. The wolf heard her cry as he emptied himself into her, and lifted his head to join her with a wolf's howl of triumph, defiance and ownership. Red heard the wolf's howl and knew, in that moment, that she belonged to him. That what happened now, here, would not be the end. The wolf slipped from her back and his wolf-cum spilled from her, coating her thighs and legs, but she didn't have the strength left to notice nor care but only to fall forwards onto her belly, exhausted and spent. The wolf looked down at his human female bitch, threw back his head and howled again in dominance and contentment. He knew he would be back for her again. He bounded over to the stream and drank his fill, and in a moment was gone into the forest's depths. For some time Red lay on her cloak, holding it to her, trying desperately to absorb what had happened to her over the past hour. She had been fucked by a wolf, and it had been...good. Red was a little shocked to realise that, actually, she had liked it. It has been the most fulfilling sexual encounter of her life thus far, if you measured it on the strength of her orgasms. Short on cuddles, though. After a while she crawled slowly down to the stream and cleaned the wolf-cum from her thighs and body, neck and breasts. It was difficult to understand what impact this had made on her life. Would anything be the same again now? As her strength returned to her she pushed herself to her feet, and as she had almost an hour previously, bathed herself in the pool in her stream. Shortly she would lie out in the sun to dry, and then, perhaps, she would continue on her way to visit her grandmother. * Raoul was more than a little surprised to find he still lived. He had also witnessed everything that had happened, and watched with great relief as the wolf had left. Now, he was left with Red...against all odds he would still get his chance with her. For the second time today he watched her bathe naked, cleaning herself for him, and after what he'd just witnessed his hunger was even more inflamed, even more rapacious, than before. And Raoul also had a new insight to the girl Red, his prey: after what he'd just seen, he knew how she could be made to respond - all the better to manipulate and control her. Yes, with the right coercion there'd be nothing she wouldn't be prepared to do for him. He would make sure of that. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 02 Author's note: this is a continuation from chapter one (shockingly!) but could also be read as a stand-alone story: it is complete in its own right. However, to benefit from some of the references the reader is encouraged to start with chapter one. It is not my intent or design to offend, so please be aware that this story has been written for adults of a particular kind: it is unlikely to be everyone's cup of tea. This story contains non-consent/reluctance with BDSM undertones; blackmail; dominance and submission. There's even some masturbation and hand-crafted furniture. If you are likely to be offended by this please read something else. If you don't want to read something a little dark, a little twisted, or longer than three quarters of a page, please return to your search criteria of choice. If you like it, please do remember to vote. If you don't like it, please feel free to forget to. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: All characters herein are probably fictitious. Copyright © 2015. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorised use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author. * * * Chapter 2. Red felt much refreshed after her second dip in the stream. After a while she once again stepped naked from the water, returning to her cloak in the glen and lay down for the sun to dry and soothe her. She closed her eyes to the glare of the sun, letting it feel its warmth caress her body, while in her mind she played through the events of the past hour. A small smile curled the corners of her lips. "Nice glen you've found here, Red." With a strangled gasp Red swiftly sat up, snatching her shift and clutching it to her nakedness. She had immediately recognised that voice and would've given anything for it not to be him, but alas, mere feet away stood Raoul. "Yes, very pretty. Very private, too. Well-hidden and remote. I like it!" Red sat nude on her cloak, the shift clutched to her breasts to protect her modesty, watching him warily as he invaded her glen. A momentary dread came upon her as she wondered how long he had watched her for. She hoped with all her will that he had only just arrived. Raoul regarded her, a lascivious gleam in his eye. "Nothing to say to me, girl?" "Well, Mister Raoul, a gentleman would turn around and let a lady get dressed." "That is probably true," mused Raoul, rubbing his bristly chin thoughtfully. Then he looked at Red again, "but I am not a gentlemen. And you are certainly not a lady." "How dare you!" Red retorted, her annoyance flaring at his rudeness, his presence, and indeed his very personage. "Oh, I dare, girl, I do indeed dare," Raoul declared, as he slowly approached Red. "I know now the kind of girl you are, and a lady you are most definitely not." A cold lump of dread filled Red's stomach at those words, yet bravado was her only possible defence, "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Mister Raoul, and..." He cut her short. "Well, let me fill you in then," he said, crouching down so that his eyes were on the same level as Red's, "you swim in the nude, do you not?" So he had seen her bathe. Maybe that was all. A small slither of hope arose, but the dread still sat deep within her: he was too arrogant, too confident. "Many ladies do, Raoul, and I would thank you not to spy." Raoul nodded sagely, as if contemplating her bluster. "True, true. Also, you lie in glens much like this one and play with yourself, do you not?" Red swallowed the wave of anxiety that washed over her. He had phrased it as a question. Did he know? If he had watched her masturbate, then he must've seen...everything. But perhaps he was simply guessing. Oh, what to do! If he had seen nothing then she might defend herself, but if he had seen it all... She had hesitated too long. "Shall I take your silence as assent, girl?" he asked, greatly enjoying the power of his position, and in no rush to hasten proceedings. Indeed, he would savour this girl for quite some time to come. "You ask a very personal question, Mister Raoul," Red had decided still to try to prevaricate, "and a lady would never answer such a thing." "Oh, is that so?" Raoul seemed genuinely surprised. "Well, if we're being so civilised, perhaps, instead, you would kindly demonstrate for me?" "I will not!" Raoul leant forwards, so that she missed none of his words, "Oh, but you did earlier," he hissed. Red choked back a cry. He had seen it all. "And I think," he continued, standing up and looking down at her as he folded his arms, "that I would like to see you do it again, but this time, up close and personal. Just for me." Red looked up at her tormentor, and the icy dread in her stomach felt like it had washed throughout her body. She had never felt so trapped. Even the wolf had not made her feel like this, because at least the wolf had been, at some level at least, comparably, blameless - like a force of nature. Perhaps the wolf had merely heeded its own urges, but Raoul...he would manipulate and coerce and have no mercy. "What is it you want of me, Mister Raoul?" she asked plaintively and her voice trembled, betraying her anguish. "I have told you already, Red," he said, "I will not tell you again," and there was no longer a feigned civility in his tone. He was ordering her. "I won't do it!" she cried, clutching the shift tighter to her body. "Ahh, but you will," he said, and the twisted expression on his face was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. "You will," he repeated, "because I know how to control you now, Red. I saw you fuck that wolf." She cried out her shock and dismay as his words confirmed her fears, burying her face in the dress she held to her, unable to meet his eyes, awash in her own shame. "Yes, Red, I saw you fuck that wolf, and use your mouth on him too. You were so willing, so eager," he goaded, watching the naked girl squirming at his feet. "I had no choice!" she cried, "he would've killed me!" "Perhaps," replied Raoul, "or perhaps not," and Red jerked in response. Had she been wrong? Would the wolf have left her alone? Did she do all that...all that happened...for no reason? But even while these thoughts went through her mind, another part of her wondered if she'd willingly do it again, given the chance. "Either away, Red my girl, that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I know your secret." Red looked up at him, lifting her chin defiantly. "I don't care. Tell everyone. No one will believe you." "Even your Da?" Raoul asked. "Especially my Da!" Red retorted, knowing with certainty that her parents loved her and would support her. "You love your parents, don't you?" Raoul asked, innocently. "Of course!" she declared. "You wouldn't want, say, something bad to happen to them then?" Red looked at him, feeling the blood drain from her face as she realised how he had trapped her. "What...what do you mean?" she whispered, feeling so completely vulnerable, naked before this manipulative man. "The world is such a dangerous place," Raoul commented, one hand airily waving through the glen. "So many dangers. Bandits, thieves...wolves..." Red felt tears form in her eyes. Raoul continued, knowing he had her now. "It is difficult for a man to always look out for himself. Especially one as bold as your Da. He could trip, one night...he could be lost in the forest..." "No, please..." "This could be avoided, of course...were you prepared to help keep him safe." Red knew she had lost. "You...you wish for me to pleasure myself before you?" she asked, almost choking on the words. Raoul stood impassively, looking down on her, remaining silent. "And...and if I do...you promise to keep my father safe?" Raoul watched the piteous girl at his feet, tears on her cheeks, pathetically looking up at him, begging for reassurance. And though his face was impassive, his blood soared with the thrill of his control, his power over her. He remained silent, simply watching her, savouring every moment. Red knew she had no choice. He had won, and she was beaten. She was powerless and at his mercy, and only her obedience would keep her family unharmed. Well had he learnt from watching her with the wolf. She had to give him that...he had known how to attack her. Slowly, defeated, she lay back down on her fine red cloak, still holding her dress protectively against her nakedness. Closing her eyes and biting her lip, she slid one hand down her body, under the dress, slipping it between her thighs. "Move the dress, Red," came his voice. Eyes still closed, she shook her head back and forth. She couldn't do it. "Move the dress, or the deal is off. Obey me, unquestioningly, or the deal is off." Red cried out her anguish but threw her dress to the side, baring her total nakedness to the eyes of the man she hated, the man she feared, the man who controlled her now. Once again Raoul crouched down beside her. "Good girl," he said, and his voice wasn't mocking, but firm in his dominance. Raoul reached out a hand and plucked Red's nipple between finger and thumb, twisting and pinching. Red shuddered under his touch, her eyes screwed shut in denial. "Open your eyes, girl," he commanded. Slowly she obeyed. "One more thing, Red," he said, and waited until she looked at him. "You must obey me willingly, or the deal is off." Again she shook her head, side to side, fear widening her eyes. "No...no..." He twisted her nipple again, hard, and she whimpered at the pain. "Don't forget I saw you with that wolf, Red. I saw you open your mouth and suck his cock." Again she cried out in her anguish and shame, a far greater pain than the ache in her abused nipple. "Yes, I saw you, a wolf's slut. I saw you debase yourself to save your own skin. And yet you won't please me, to save your father's?" Red was overcome with turmoil. She knew she was trapped, utterly coerced. She knew that she should hate this man who so threatened her father, her family, herself; and at some level, hate him she did. But too, he had such control over her. And such sexual control at that. She was wholly aware of how exposed she was to him, and not just in the physical sense. Her hand was between her thighs, and suddenly she also knew herself to be aroused. How could that be? She hadn't even touched herself yet! What had caused this betrayal of her body? Then Red realised what was happening: she was responding to his dominance. Much as she had with the wolf, she was aroused not by his blackmail and threats, but by his control over her. In that moment she both hated herself and loved the feeling of complete submission. In that moment she understood the dichotomy that, in being wholly captured, there was a certain freedom: in having no choice, one was freed from decisions; in being so commanded, one was absolved of duty and care - and it was liberating. Slowly she lifted her eyes to his face. Then she nodded, acquiescing her submission to him. Raoul had dominated enough women to know the moment of her subjugation. He had seen enough women look at him as Red looked at him now. He had, to be sure, expected it to take longer with this one. But then he noticed her signs of arousal, and the passion in her look. Oh, what a war there must be going on inside her now! She would fight him, that much was certain - just as she would fight herself, too. But she would lose both fights, just as she had lost this one, and he was going to enjoy every minute. The smell of arousal came to Raoul, and he smiled. "Such a submissive little slut you are, my Red. Now obey me, and willingly." Red felt tears in her eyes from her own shame, but too she knew her own arousal and could smell her own scent in the air. She knew Raoul would smell it too, and she whimpered in humiliation even as her fingers began to move within the slickness of her sex. Here she was, masturbating before a man that until today she had taken all steps to avoid out of revulsion and fear, and again that disturbing little voice inside her wondered if, at some level, it was because she realised what he might do to her. Raoul watched as her fingers slid between the folds of her womanhood, her arousal clear in the moisture on her labia. He tweaked her nipple again, "Spread your legs, wench. Open yourself to me." Closing her eyes in shame Red obeyed, her legs spreading wide, her body wholly opened at his command. But he wasn't to allow her anywhere to hide. "Open your eyes too. Look at me." Red opened her eyes and looked up at her tormentor, and a whimper of pure arousal left her throat as his dominant eyes held hers. Raoul released her nipple from between finger and thumb, then placed his hand so that the very tip of her nipple brushed against his palm. Red responded as he had known she would, pushing her breast into his hand. He held her gaze until he saw she had realised what she had done, then smiled. Red tried to pull away, agonised that again her body had betrayed her, but his hand stayed on her breast and squeezed it, just as she had squeezed her own breasts when last she had masturbated before him. Her fingers moved in the folds of her pussy, slickness coating her swollen clit. She felt her orgasm building, and again the turmoil of emotions flooded her. Could she really cum before this man? Could she even hope to prevent it? "Please..." she begged, and she wasn't sure what she was asking for. "What is it, wench?" asked Raoul softly. "What is it you beg for?" Cruelly he tweaked her nipple again, eliciting a quiet cry. "Do you beg to cum for me, slut? Is that what you want?" Red felt her orgasm approaching, irrepressibly building, she nodded her defeat, her submission. "Say it." "Please, Mister Raoul, please may I cum for you?" Again the turmoil, as her face blushed with shame, yet her body flushed with arousal. Raoul was pleased, and surprised. He had not expected her to add the "...for you", it suggested a level of submission within her greater than he had anticipated. "Very well, cum for me," he permitted her, emphasising the last two words. She had been granted permission to do what she had begged to be allowed, and the shame and humiliation mixed a heady cocktail with her submission and arousal. Red felt her orgasm break, filling her body with a power far greater than her self-ministrations usually produced, and her hips bucked and writhed beneath her probing hand. Raoul remembered another promise he had made himself, and in that moment leant forward, taking a mouthful of Red's breast deep into his mouth, he bit down. Red cried out at the pain, mingling and melding with the pleasure of her orgasm. She knew her breast to be attacked by her tormentor, yet she did not wish to pull away. His tongue rubbed against her nipple, deep in his mouth, and her spare hand went to his head, pulling him against her. Her orgasm reached a crescendo, and she bucked beneath him. Abruptly Raoul sat back, releasing his hand and mouth from the girl lying before him. Red whimpered at his absence, her body flushed from her orgasm. He looked down at her, seeing the pink openness of her aroused sex, slick and wet from her climax, on display between her widely-spread legs. Her nipples were tight points, and one breast showed where his teeth had marked her. "I think, now, you are mine," he stated. Her eyes flicked open. "No! You said I only had to pleasure myself!" Raoul feigned thoughtful recollection. "I...recall making no such claim." "You said you would keep my Da safe if I did so!" "Again, you are mistaken." Red thought back to their earlier exchange and realised that Raoul had indeed made no assertions. "You tricked me!" she cried. "I think you tricked yourself, wench," he said, and Red beat her fists against her cloak, knowing he was right. "Nothing has changed, girl. Obey me, and willingly, or something may befall your Da. And you Ma." "You've won...damn you...you've won," Red spat at him, "you don't need to threaten them." "Very well. So, you are choosing to obey me willingly?" "Yes, damn you!" Raoul smiled at her venom. "Say it, then." He did so like driving home a point. "I choose to obey you willingly," she said, but he thought it lacked a certain sincerity despite her recent showing. Again Raoul smiled. This girl did not know how badly she had lost. She must be shown. "Good. Then prove it. With your mouth." Red looked up at him, surprise widening her eyes. "Now, girl." "No, I...please...I..." "Very well. I thought as much. We are done here then." Raoul pushed himself to his feet, standing over her. Red looked up at him, uncomprehending. "You have reneged on our arrangement. The deal, as they say, is off." Raoul turned to leave, and took several steps. "No, wait!" Red pushed herself to a sitting position, "please!" Raoul turned back. "Yes?" "I..I...choose to obey you, willingly," Red exclaimed, turmoil in her heart, knowing again he had defeated her, and so easily. The small voice inside her wondered also how a woodsman knew the word "reneged". "One more time, please?" he inquired, feigning politeness. "I choose to obey you! I will obey you willingly!" "Are you sure?" "Yes, Mister Raoul, I am sure! I promise!" "With your mouth, too?" "Yes, yes," Red could not believe the words she was uttering, "with my mouth, too." "Good. And your body?" "Yes," whispered Red, "and my body." Raoul smiled. "Crawl to me, then, and pleasure me with your mouth. If it helps, you can pretend I am a wolf." Red pushed herself to her hands and knees, not even allowed the dignity of walking. Raoul smiled at the sight of the girl crawling towards him, her full breasts swaying beneath her. He was delighted, too, by the fear in her eyes, and the sweetness of her mouth that he would be soon to experience. Red stopped before him and sat back, looking up at him from her position on her knees. He had made that cruel comment about the wolf in jest, yet part of her would rather be with the wolf right now than with this man. A large part of her. Yet he had repeatedly shown his dominance over her, and she had no choice. She knew he would find a way to get what he wanted from her, again and again. How could she fight such a man? She reached up a small hand to the belt of his slacks, but impatiently he brushed her hand aside. Raoul opened his slacks and freed his manhood, and it was already engorged and straining towards the girl. "Suck me," he commanded. Red recoiled inside at the coarseness of his command, yet she leaned in towards him. For the second time that day she opened her mouth to perform a service without choice, to appease, to pacify and to be allowed to live...or for her father to live. Raoul could not believe his good fortune at having such power over the girl who knelt naked at his feet, her mouth ready for him. So many days had he dreamt of such a thing with this girl, never actually thinking it would come to pass. Red grasped his manhood in her small hand, feeling immediately the warmth and weight of it. She could smell him, this close, and it was a sharp, acrid scent. She did not want to obey. "Willingly, girl, and quickly...my patience is short." Again Raoul had read her perfectly, and his reminder galvanised her into action. Red closed her eyes and took the head of his manhood into her mouth. He tasted bitter on her tongue, and the pungent scent of him filled her nose. Her stomach clenched in revulsion. She felt his hands on her head then and without warning his hips thrust forward, and she was forced to take him deeper inside, until he pushed against her throat. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 02 Red struggled to breathe as he slowly fucked her mouth, inhaling through her nose as he briefly withdrew before pushing again into her throat. She fought not to gag, knowing he would be most displeased with her were she to do so, and focused instead on her breathing and relaxing her throat. "Use your tongue, wench." Red licked him as he slid in and out of her mouth, and at first the sourness repulsed her but as she cleaned him with her tongue the taste improved. Raoul wrapped both hands in the girl's hair, holding her head as he slowly invaded her sweet mouth. Oh, for this moment to last forever! The feel of her tongue on him, the total dominance he had over her! It was invigorating! "Spread your knees wide and play with your pussy. Show me again how much of a slut you are." Raoul slowly pushed his cock into her throat as he spoke, emphasising his words. Red squeezed her eyes shut at his words, but her knees spread wide and her hand slipped against between her legs. To her shame, but not her surprise, she found herself slick with her wetness. What kind of girl, she wondered, found such degradation and humiliation arousing? Perhaps she was, indeed, nothing more than a slut. "Good girl," he said again, and despite herself she felt a small thrill at being so praised. She hated herself for it, but at some level she wanted - needed - his affirmation. Raoul slowly slid his cock through her mouth, back until just the tip of him was between her lips and gradually forwards until he could feel her throat squeeze him. All the while her sweet tongue lapped as him as best it could, and he could see, and hear, her hand moving in her wetness as she obeyed his command and played with herself. He was so hard, so aroused! It would not be long, now, until he gave this girl his seed. Red licked at him and sucked on him, hoping against hope that she would be found pleasing and that he would let her go. Yet she knew, deep down, this hope was forlorn and she was trapped by him. Even while she despaired for her future, at this moment she felt her body responding again: she felt the moistness of her sex increase and her nipples tighten almost painfully; her body was threatening to climax once more and she could feel its inexorable build; her mouth was invaded and her jaw was aching, yet she knew she was responding to him, to being used by him and fucked by him and made to please him. "Open your eyes, wench of mine," and she looked up at him, his cock deep in her mouth. "Such a pretty sight you are." Red shivered at his words, both humiliating and degrading but also compassionate and possessive, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him. His eyes met hers and she saw within them only dominance and control. Her arousal spiked, threatening to overwhelm her in orgasm. Again Raoul read her eyes and body, almost as if he were inside her mind. "Cum for me, little slut," he gasped through his own arousal, and Red's body obeyed, her orgasm breaking, she squirmed on her knees at his feet, unable to hold his gaze, a muffled cry escaping around his cock in her mouth. Raoul felt her orgasm through her cry and her trembling body, and this pushed him too over the brink to climax. He ejaculated into her sweet mouth, his dominance and triumph over her making his orgasm all the greater. But he wanted to humiliate her more and thus, still spurting his cum, he withdrew from her mouth to cover her face with his seed. Red shuddered in pleasure through her orgasm, even as her mouth was filled with the strong, salty taste of him. She swallowed the thick cream as another spurt filled her mouth, but then he had slipped from her. She felt the next spurts land on her up-turned face, covering her, and she knew he was marking her, and another orgasmic shudder of ownership ran through her body. Raoul stepped back to better look upon his prize. She was a picture: naked, her body flushed with her recent orgasm, her knees spread wide and her sex dripping into her hand. Her pleasing breasts thrust from her young body as if in offering, one still showing the mark of his teeth around her tight, pink nipple, and her beautiful face was covered in his cum. "And so it begins," he said. Never had Red heard such innocent words uttered so cruelly. What would this mean for her now? He would use her, that she knew...he would never love her, she did not think him capable of it. And why had her mind turned to love? Could she love him, her tormentor? Just because he was able to so control her, dominate her? And - oh, such shame - what would her Da think of her, if she were to become Raoul's woman? Red threw herself to down before him, prostrating herself, as she begged, "please, Mister Raoul, please free me, let me go!" Raoul was distracted by the sight of her perfect bottom which hitherto he had not clearly seen. It was curvy yet tight, firm and smooth, with an intriguing line down the centre promising hidden pleasures within. "Um...I think...probably...not yet," he mused. "Come, girl, we will leave this place. I have had my fill of this glen, and there are other places in which to enjoy you." Red's sobbing was his only response. "Now, now. Obey and willingly, girl, or there will yet be a price to pay." Red slowly pushed herself to her knees, pausing to dash the tears from her eyes with one small hand. "I think you should walk before me. I will tell you where to go," Raoul told her. Red jumped to her feet and turned towards her clothes, but was stopped before she had taken a step, "Leave those, girl. I don't think you will need them." Red turned away, having learnt already that nothing was to be gained by begging or arguing. She lamented the loss of her cloak but vowed that, if she had the chance, she would return to claim it. For now she must remain naked, a prize paraded by her captor. Raoul indicated a direction and shortly they left the glen, coming across a small animal path. Red surreptitiously wiped his cum from her face as she walked bare-foot a short distance ahead of Raoul, and he enjoyed her nakedness every step of the way, his mouth watering at the sight of her. "Oh, what to do, what to do with you now," he mused aloud, knowing she could hear him. "Such a sweet little thing have I found me in the woods. First, we will go to my hut, so that I might use you again. Would you like that, little slut?" "Yes, Mister Raoul," Red answered quickly, trying to convey enthusiasm for the repulsive idea, but meanwhile her mind was looking for escape. Perhaps, she thought, if she could run from him, lose him in the woods...maybe she could flee home and warn her father, and together they could free themselves of this man. "I'm sure you would, I'm sure you would. You are an eager little thing, are you not?" Raoul goaded, smiling to himself as he knew full well that the girl had answered far too swiftly and thus must be plotting something else. He made ready. "Yes, Mister Raoul, I am an eager slut for you," Red was surprised to hear the words slip out so easily; only that morning she would never have dreamt of using such language. How the day had changed her, and it was not even lunch-time! A bend in the path ahead. Perhaps that was her chance? "And not just for me, I think. I am sure that Liam, too, would be most glad to have you offer yourself willingly for his pleasure, don't you think?" Red fought to hide a shudder at the suggestion, and could not bring herself to respond. "But," continued Raoul, watching her closely, "it is Rufus who I think will enjoy you the most." A slight tightening of Red's shoulders betrayed her reaction to his words. "Yes, he has only enjoyed one or two of the village girls, and I'm sure - what with your experience with the wolf, and your willingness to use your mouth..." With a cry Red fled, diving off the path and sprinting through the undergrowth. She ran as fast as she could, fed by fear and adrenaline and desperation. Raoul grinned as his prey bolted, and loped off in easy pursuit. She could not hope to escape him, naked as she was, bare-foot as she was. He was a woodsman and this was his territory, and he was no slouch either. He maintained enough speed to keep her well in sight, but allowed her to draw a little ahead for now. And my! What a pleasing sight to behold, his prey running in all her naked glory, her hair streaming behind her and the occasional glimpse of her breasts bouncing magnificently as she ran. Red knew she was fast, but was hampered by her bare feet. Thorns were a major threat and she must watch the ground carefully. She had to turn to avoid brambles that Raoul could simply hurdle, and even a small stone in her path caused her pain enough to slow her run. But she must keep going. Raoul slowly allowed himself to gain on her, but then kept the distance between them just-so. He could take her at any time, he knew that now, but he would wait until she knew it too. She could hear him in the undergrowth close behind her and she tried to accelerate her pace, but she knew it was essential to protect her feet as best she could, and suddenly her beloved forest was her enemy. Each time she turned to avoid a bush he gained some distance on her. Each sharp stone caused her to misstep or stumble. Long grass slowed her more than he, and heather twisted at her ankles. Suddenly she realised he was merely sporting with her, she would not escape him, and despair crushed her resolve. She turned to look back at him and in that moment she tripped on a fallen branch and fell heavily in the grass. Raoul approached her slowly, his breath barely laboured. He heard her sobs of frustration and despair, but she did not seem to be injured. "Well that was invigorating!" he exclaimed. Raoul stepped to the miserable girl and grasped a handful of her hair. Pulling her to her feet and after him, holding her by her hair, his hand at hip-level, she crying out and bent over and clutching at his hand, he walked some paces to a nearby rocky outcrop. Red heard him unbuckle his belt from his slacks as he walked and the distinctive thwap of leather on leather as he pulled it from its loops, and icy dread ran down her spine. Raoul sat on a good-sized stone, and pulled the girl naked across his lap, her perfectly round bottom up towards the sky. "Obedient and willing," he said, as he folded his belt in half. "Please! No, please wait!" she cried pitifully, and attempted to protect her naked posterior with her spread fingers, but Raoul simply gathered both of her small wrists in his spare hand and pulled them aside. The belt swished through the air and landed with a thud on her ass. Red shrieked at the surprise and pain of it; she had never been struck by her family, never before been spanked, and now it was her tormentor who was again introducing her to new experiences she could dearly have done without. "Obedient and willing," he repeated as again the belt was used on her raised back side, his hand holding both of hers immobile and out of the way. "Yes, yes!" gasped Red, feeling her ass flaming hot and as the pain radiated across her. Raoul struck her again, the belt slapping loudly against her flesh. Such delightful fun! "Obedient and willing!" shrieked Red, "I promise, I promise!" Raoul struck her again and again, the belt raising red welts across her beautiful buttocks. "Please, Mister Raoul! Please, I will obey you!" Raoul dropped the belt on the ground at his side. "Spread your legs, little bitch," he commanded. Swiftly Red spread her legs, her most intimate parts again open to him, having no thought but to obey lest he again used the belt on her, but he was not done punishing her yet. Raoul's open hand spanked against her bruised rear, and though it hurt less than the belt still the sting caused Red to cry out. Then Raoul's hand rubbed over her ass, and so soothing was it in contrast that she let out a whimper before she could contain it. Again Raoul slap her hard, and again he rubbed the sting away, soothing her bruised flesh, but this time his fingers also dipped between her spread legs. Red was horrified to realise that yet again her body was aroused and wet, responding to him throughout the abuse. Such had her stimulation been today that she never seemed far from arousal, and the pain and humiliation combined with the soothing pleasure of his hand had once more provoked her body. Raoul smiled as his fingers felt her slickness, and slowly he pushed one thick finger inside her. Red moaned at the penetration, her most intimate places now assaulted by her tormentor, and again helpless to resist as she was held in place, her arms awkwardly restrained behind her back. "Disobedient girls should be punished, don't you agree?" he whispered to her, his finger all the while thrusting in and out of her, stroking her, teasing her. "Yes," moaned Red, her head hanging down as she lay across his lap, "I should be punished." "There are many forms of punishment, Red. This is just one," his finger drove deeply inside her as he spoke, and he flicked his fingertip across her cervix for emphasis. Red gasped and shuddered, feeling the invasion stimulating her beyond what she could bear. Raoul slipped his finger from her to slide it between the lips of her pussy, finding her engorged clit and rubbing it mercilessly. Red squirmed on his lap, her pussy too sensitive for such a treatment, and her legs closed protectively. "Open your legs, obedient, willing slut," and Red once again reluctantly forced her legs apart. Raoul resumed his assault on her clit, and Red wailed her arousal, pain and helplessness. Raoul could tell her climax was imminent and slowly pushed two fingers back inside her. Red gasped as she accommodated the larger invasion, feeling her tender pussy stretched by his thick fingers. Raoul slipped his fingers in over her slick pussy walls, stroking her, stimulating her beyond endurance, and felt her shudder as her orgasm rapidly approached. "Next time your punishment will not be so gentle," and he pushed his hand hard against her, his fingers driving into her, fingertips flicking rapidly and repeatedly over her cervix, driving her over the edge. Red came violently, the orgasm torn from her, her juices coating his invading hand that did not relent its assault on her. Again and again she came, writhing on his lap, while his hand held her pinned in place against him. She was helpless to resist and he was ruthless in his onslaught. Unable to take any more, Red begged him to stop. "Please, Mister Raoul, please! I will be obedient and willing, I swear!" "Very well, little slut," and he slipped his fingers from her open, swollen sex, and pushed her from his lap. Red fell in to the soft grass at his feet, her body spent and exhausted from her repeated forced orgasms. Raoul spread his legs, "kneel here," he said, indicating the space between. Swiftly Red moved to comply, no longer hesitating in her obedience. Raoul held out his hand to her, covered in her juices. "Clean me off. Use your mouth." Red leant in and took his fingers into her mouth, one by one, tasting her own wetness on his salty skin. Again the humiliation and dominance of being punished in such a way, and then made to clean him with her mouth, struck her to the core. Raoul watched in silence as she finished her task, sensing now in her eyes that she recognised his authority over her. "So now we will continue to my hut, where I will use you again as you said you wished," he told her. "Yes, Mister Raoul," she acknowledged, obedient and willing. And not a small part of her hungered for him to use her, to again prove his dominance to her in the most basic of ways. He could not resist goading her further, such did he feel he owed her for her past refusal of him. "And then we will invite Liam to partake of you too, and you will be found pleasing or you will be punished." "Yes, Mister Raoul," she answered, and wondered if Liam would treat her gently. "In the past, Liam has liked to inflict pain on the girls we have shared," Raoul told her, "but I rather suspect you will enjoy that sort of thing." "Yes, Mister Raoul," she whispered. So this was to be her lot in life. "And lastly, when we have both had our fill of you, I will summon Rufus for your pleasure." Raoul watched her face closely as he spoke, basking in the torment of his prize, "he can be quite rough, but I know you like that too." Red looked up at him in horror, but was met by an impassive stare. She lowered her eyes. "Yes, Mister Raoul," she murmured, and the thought of being so humiliated while the two men watched was quite possibly the most degrading act she could imagine. "If you are a good girl, I might even let you suck me while Rufus fucks you," Raoul offered. "Yes, Mister Raoul. Thank you, Mister Raoul." Obedient and willing; defeated and owned. "Come then, girl, the hut is not far. You were running towards it you know," and he picked up his belt and stood, re-looping the leather while she stood too. Raoul indicated a path, "Walk ahead of me please, I have a mind to admire the marks on your rump." As Raoul directed her, Red led them to the hut that Raoul kept in the woods. It was a reasonable size but rudimentary in design and construction with only three walls and a roof. Several coarse chairs built from rough wood occupied the interior, and a table made from unfinished logs filled the middle of the space. It all looked hand-made, and Red assumed that Raoul was the carpenter. Despite its crude design it all looked sturdy and strong: in that, it reflected its creator. "Do you like it?" Raoul asked, and Red felt he genuinely sort his praise. "Yes, Mister Raoul," she replied, obedient and willing. And she did, of sorts - it carried a certain uncouth charm and suited the forest around it. Raoul smiled. "I am glad, because this is where I shall keep you." At this Red looked at it again, and some of the initial charm appeared to have rubbed off. Raoul smiled again, "If you please me, I might even find you a blanket or two." "Yes, Mister Raoul," she said woodenly, as she contemplated her fate kept as this man's sex toy in this crude hut, open to the elements. Raoul walked slowly towards her until they all but touched, and grasped her chin in one hand, tilting her face up to his. She trembled at his touch, knowing what was to come, and while in part he revolted her, in part she ached for his control and affirmation. Now, like a conditioned animal, even his barest show of dominance aroused her. He pulled her nakedness against him forcing his mouth onto hers, and she whimpered into him as his teeth crushed her lip. His other hand ran roughly down her smooth, bare back to her firm, round bottom, and his hand spread her cheeks as his fingers pushed between them. He held her to him in such a manner as he ravaged her mouth with his while two fingers probed rudely at the entrance between her buttocks, and she felt his manhood hard and strong against her belly. Another show of his control over her, and despite herself she squirmed pleasurably in his grasp as he molested her. Raoul pulled back from the kiss but keeping her held against him with his hand on her ass. "Are you ready to please me, obediently and willingly?" he asked her. "Yes, Mister Raoul," she whispered, and in many ways it was true. Again he had warmed her body with his touch, and again she knew herself to be slick and ready for him. This time she knew he would take her. "To the table, little slut," he commanded her, and she approached as bidden. While she did he pulled two lengths of twine from his pockets and walked around the table to the far side. "Lie across it ready to be fucked, little slut," he told her, and her arousal increased and her breath caught in her throat at his words. Slowly Red bent herself across the rough table, feeling the coarse wood against her bare breasts and belly. Raoul took her wrists and in a moment had bound them together with several loops of twine, such that she was unable to move them. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 02 The edge of the table jutted against her abdomen, but Raoul had other ideas. Pulling firmly on the twine in his hands he stretched her further across the table until she was up on her toes, her legs stretched taut, and the table now pressing against her upper thighs. It was in this position that Raoul tied the twine taut, effectively keeping her helplessly bent immobile and stretched across the bench. Raoul stepped back to examine his handiwork, walking around behind Red as he did so. She whimpered her shame and exposure, covering her face against her arms. Again Raoul took a moment to congratulate himself; his prey, his prize, held naked across his table. Such a naïve, innocent girl had Red been this morning, and yet now she was tied ready for him, her long legs stretched taut, pressed together, her perfect bottom raised in offering, her sex lewdly on display. And her body showed him how much she really wanted him: her pussy was puffy with arousal and shiny with her wetness; her clit was pushing out from under its hood; her pink hole was barely covered such was her readiness for him. Raoul approached the helpless girl and rubbed his palm firmly against her exposed sex, immediately feeling her slippery arousal, one finger sliding easily inside her. Red whimpered too as his touch emphasised to her how aroused she was. Raoul leant over her until his mouth was against her ear, undoing his belt as he whispered to her, "You seem so ready for me, little slut." "Yes, Mister Raoul," she whispered, willing and obedient. And coerced, tricked, captured and so very defenceless and vulnerable. A single sob escaped her but Raoul failed to notice as he freed his manhood from his slacks and lined it up against Red's ready cunt. Slowly he pushed into her, and she sobbed and gasped at the intrusion, feeling the cock of the man who had blackmailed her into total submission pushing inside her helpless pussy, stretching her, filling her, until his hips pushed against her naked, up-turned ass and he was buried fully inside her. "You're so tight, so sweet, little Red. You're mine now to do with as I wish," and with that Raoul began to fuck her, pushing into her with powerful thrusts, she tied helplessly across the table unable to move, her bottom up high and her legs pressed together. Her sobs and gasps came with every plunge, rising in pitch as he fucked her harder, faster, animalistic grunts of passion accompanying each thrust, and occasionally his hand would slap her smooth, upturned ass. Again Raoul couldn't believe his good fortune, this girl so very much his. He had already enjoyed her mouth and explored her willing cunt with his fingers. Now he was thrusting inside her and soon would empty his seed into her. He would show her to Liam but would probably not share her...at least, not yet. But Rufus on the other hand...that was another story. Raoul's thrusting became ragged as he recalled Red lying naked on her back, the wolf's cock deep in her mouth. It was probably the most exciting thing he had ever seen, and he would definitely have her perform it again. His balls began to tighten as the feeling of Red's pussy engulfing him, mixed with the imagery of her mouth on the wolf's cock, drove him towards his pending climax. Oh, she was so sweet, so tight! Her gasps and high-pitched moans elicited with each thrust were the most beautiful music! Some primal instinct warned Raoul. Perhaps it was something as basic as a sound on the edge of his hearing, or perhaps it was simply the wood to which he was so attuned was suddenly completely silent. Whatever the cause, even in the midst of his passion Raoul was alerted to it, and in that moment he knew they were not alone. From behind Raoul came the deepest, most monstrous, most ferocious sound he had ever heard, building and building, a snarl starting low in the throat of a beast and rising up and up. Raoul's blood ran cold at the sound and slowly he turned, sliding from Red's body as he did so. Before Raoul stood the wolf, mere feet away. He had approached near-silently, but he was not silent now. His ice-blue eyes held Raoul's captive, and his snarl bared his teeth and curled his lip. The wolf's hackles were up making him seen larger still, and Raoul - not a small man - felt dwarfed by the wolf's sheer bulk. Raoul did the only thing he could do under the circumstances: he ran, and left Red to be devoured by the wolf. Fed by sheer terror, Raoul scampered for the safety of the forest, hampered only by his loosened slacks which he held up with one hand, desperately trying to fasten his belt as he ran. For a long moment the wolf regarded Red, lying tied and bound over the table, her rump presented to the wolf, Raoul's hand marks imprinted where he had slapped it, her recently penetrated sex pink and agape. The wolf growled still, seeing her so. Then he turned, leaving Red, and loped leisurely after Raoul. He felt no urge to rush: he knew Raoul would not escape, and he wished to let Raoul build a futile sense of hope. Red lay on the table, her heart thumping in her chest. She had heard the growl and recognised it for what it was: she knew the wolf had returned. Unable to move, she had no choice but to lie there, unknowing what was happening behind her, and the feelings of helplessness and vulnerability at being left tied so in such a position almost overwhelmed her. She heard Raoul run off, his gait uneven as he struggled with his clothing, and she heard the wolf's growl remain after Raoul had left. She knew the wolf was behind her, looking at her, and she knew the deepest of fears. When the wolf ceased his growl she prepared to be eaten - or perhaps even to be mounted again, tied helpless as she was - but neither event happened. She did not hear him leave. For several long moments all was quiet. Then, from a distance away in the woods, came the high-pitched scream of a man in severe pain; a chilling scream of sheer terror. Again and again and again came the screams with just enough of an interval between them for a man to draw a breath, and each scream conveyed the torment of a tortured soul until Red could bear to hear them no longer; mercifully the last scream ended abruptly. For a while everything was silent and peaceful, save for the sounds of her own breathing and the hammering of her heart in her chest. Presently Red heard the sound of bare feet on the forest floor, and she knew someone was approaching. She could distinctly hear the breathing of a person approaching, and for sure it was a person - not a wolf. An intense feeling of relief went through her - she knew she would be rescued now - but also a feeling of shame - to be found in such a way. A man's voice came to her ears and it sounded reassuring, steady. "Don't worry, lass, I'll cut you free," and the voice's owner came around beside her, taking one of Raoul's tools lying nearby and slicing through the twine that bound her wrists. She looked up at him as he came into sight. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a kind, intelligent-looking face. He had a thick head of jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders and was naked from the waist up with a dark but soft-looking covering of hair splashed across his deep chest and down over his lean stomach. His musculature was clearly defined, though not as bulky as Raoul's. He was wearing a pair of slacks belted at his waist. Red's eyes widened in surprise as she recognised them immediately: she had very recently been intimately exposed to those slacks and the belt too. The man looked down at her, a concerned expression etched onto his handsome features, and Red found herself looking up into a pair of ice-blue eyes. Emotionally and physically exhausted, bruised and aching, stretched to the limit of her endurance and frightened half out of her wits, the sudden realisation that washed over Red was too much for her mind to bear. The last thing she saw as she swooned, slipping from the table, was the man's surprised exclamation as he dived to catch her, then blissful darkness enveloped her. * * * Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 03 Author's note: this is the conclusion of this story. For obvious reasons, readers are invited to begin with chapter 1 if they have not already read it. It is not my intent or design to offend, so please be aware that this story has been written for adults of a particular kind: it is unlikely to be everyone's cup of tea. This story contains non-human sex with domination/submission undertones. If you are likely to be offended by this please read something else. Please also note that this is more of a finish to the story than it is a sexual romp; there is some sex but it's towards the end. Yes, yes I know...it's not likely to score very well! If you like it, please do remember to vote. If you don't like it, please feel free to forget to. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: All characters herein are probably fictitious. Copyright © 2015. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorised use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author. ***** Chapter 3 Red awakened slowly, the dregs of sleep thick in her head. She opened her eyes and knew that wherever she was it was dark, yet the light had an ethereal quality to it - like stormy clouds at twilight - threatening darkness, yet not really black. She slowly realised that she was in a cave, the opening a few yards away, and she was lying once again on her fine red cloak. One fold of it was wrapped over her, and beneath she knew she was still naked. She came fully awake with a start, sitting up and clutching the cloak to her, she looked around quickly but she was alone in the cave. Looking out towards the cave's entrance she saw that dusk must be approaching given the little light, yet her eyes had clearly become accustomed to the cave's dark interior for she could make out the walls and ceiling quite clearly. Below where her head had lain she found her white shift, folded to serve as a pillow. She reached a hand to it, touching the familiar material, and wondering how she had arrived in this cave. A sound at the threshold of her hearing made her realise she was not alone. Something, or someone, was outside of the cave. She sat still, listening, but she was more curious than afraid, though she admitted to a certain level of apprehension. While Red knew that no one who had meant her ill would've taken the time to collect her cloak and shift (Raoul had not, after all) she was - yet again - naked and alone, and after the day she had had she was feeling quite vulnerable. A figure emerged in the mouth of the cave and despite the poor light Red recognised him instantly. Crouching to avoid the low roof of the cave he slipped inside, and she saw how he moved easily and with careless grace despite the ungainly squat the cave necessitated. He had still not found any clothes for his torso and he still wore the slacks that Raoul had worn. She noticed his feet were bare too. In his hands he held what appeared to be a large, curved piece of tree bark. He stopped short as he saw she had sat up, and Red thought he seemed surprised to see her awake. "Ah, you have awoken. How do you feel?" His voice was rich and vibrant, and seemed genuinely filled with concern for her. His accent, to Red's ear, was certainly not one found locally. "I feel fine, thank you," it seemed churlish not to reply. Also, she thought she could smell something invigorating and wondered what was in the bark. "Good, good," he said, his tone cautious but also relieved, "I...had wondered if you might feel unwell." Red did not know what to say, so said nothing. Clearly, this was her saviour, this man with the ice-blue eyes that haunted her so, yet curiously he had left her naked and taken her not to a village but to one of the many caves sequestered about the forest. She could be anywhere, and they were alone together. He sensed the awkwardness and cleared his throat, "Err...I brought you some water," and he lifted the bark a little towards her. Red could hear the water inside it slosh, and such was her thirst that she realised she could even smell the water, which struck her as most unusual, but it smelt clean and fresh. She was suddenly aware how tremendously, desperately thirsty she was. Pushing herself forwards on to her knees, not caring that her covering cloak dropped to her waist, she clutched the bark from his hands and lifted it to her lips, gulping the cold, fresh water down. She moaned with sensuous pleasure as she felt it caress her dry throat and fill her empty stomach. He watched her gulp down the water, her breasts uncaringly displayed as she lifted the bark, slating her craving for drink. "I thought you'd be thirsty," he said while she drank like a man who had just crawled out of a desert, and the extent of his inadvertent understatement struck them both simultaneously. He laughed, a wry chortle. Though she longed to finish the little water remaining, Red lowered the bark and smiled at him. "I'm sorry," she said, "I have no idea why I was so thirsty. It's not like me." She lifted the bark again and swallowed the remainder of the water before placing the bark carefully down on the cave floor. Blushing slightly, she lifted the fold of cloak to cover her chest once more. "It's fair," he assured her, and nothing in his gaze suggested he had noticed her bare breasts, "you've been asleep a good while." As if to clarify, he added: "shortly after I cut you free you passed out." "Yes, I know," she said, "I remember actually. But I am astonished that I have slept so long. It is evening time: the rest of the day has gone." Something about his body language conveyed her error. "It's...not the same day, is it?" half question half statement. "How long was I asleep?" she asked hesitantly. His response was immediately conciliatory, one hand raised towards her both to ward and to reassure, and she was surprised at how easily and clearly she could read his body language, sensing his urge to protect her but also to appease her. "You've been through a traumatic..." "How long?" she demanded, cutting him off. "Six days," he answered, and his reluctance was again obvious. Red's mouth opened in disbelief as she registered his reply. "Six...days?" Surely he must've meant hours, but he made no move to correct. "It...can't be?" Desperately she searched for sign within herself of the truth of what he had said: some sign; some physiological confirmation; an indication of time passed. She still felt thirsty, even after draining all that water, and ever so hungry, yes; but no more than that. No weakness or frailty, no fatigue suggested by illness or muscle lethargy as if from days in bed. In point of fact she felt invigorated and strong. She looked to him questioningly. Again his body language clearly expressed his emotions to her, and it was his sense of disquiet and unease that gave the truth to his words. She could read him so easily and so uncovered was the raw emotion that she saw he felt towards her that she felt herself wanting to protect him - even as she was looking for reassurance from him. "But...how can it be?" she whispered. "Do you not know?" he asked her, and she sensed an extraordinary blend of misery and hope; both emotions as clear to her through his body language as if he had stated them. And suddenly, her eyes widening and her hand flying to her mouth, she knew. At least, she knew what, but not yet how. "How? You didn't bite me..." And then she realised that too. "I am sorry," he said, and his abject misery was just like a puppy who had been kicked repeatedly through no fault of its own; the sense of hope had vanished. "Usually it would not have happened like this, but..." and again she heard the emotion behind the words, sensed the inextricable pull he felt towards her. Slowly, ashamedly he lifted his eyes to hers, as if to seek forgiveness from her but really expecting a backlash of rage and hate and disgust - but prepared to face it nonetheless. She could read each of his emotions in his face and the hold of his body, the tightness of his shoulders or the clench of his jaw; the play of the muscles in his hands as he fought to unclench them, the tiniest down-turning of his sensuous lips, or the fractional change in his posture that belied his misery. It was not that he was an open book, simply that she was his co-author. In that moment she wondered if he could read her just as well and in the same way, and then their eyes met. A spark, a jolt, a bolt of instant bilateral understanding struck them both at an emotional depth that left her gasping as in the briefest, most intense of instants she saw reflected in him the strength of the pull she had over him, clear to see and mirrored in his emotional response to her pull; while simultaneously she saw in him that he recognised in her not only that she knew her pull on him but also that she was equally pulled to him; and moreover she realised he was right - she was drawn to him. In that moment a chaos of blended realisations and emotions assailed them both, an inextricable mix of confusion and clarity which, for a long moment, she could not tell what came from him and what from her, and she was felt awash with feelings as though she had been thrust head-first into a torrent of reciprocated emotion: passion, relief, anticipation, tenderness, lust, hope, possession, conjoining and...yes...love. They had together recognised in each other that which had started with him, and the pull towards her that he had felt. She felt his misery wash away as he recognised in her what he felt in himself, and the hope flooded back soaring through him along with rapture and fulfilment and ardour. She gasped with the strength of that emotional outburst, sitting back on her heels in shock, clutching the cloak to her chest, looking up at him in surprise. But he only grinned, an infectious, open grin, as though nothing more pleasing had ever happened in his life. Then he had moved to her and taken her in his arms, and she felt his power and strength as they wrapped around her, but also the warmth and gentleness of his hold, then his lips were on hers and she was kissing him as much as he was kissing her. Somehow the cloak had slipped down to her waist again, and her breasts were pushed to his chest and her arms were locked around his neck holding him in place, lest he try to escape from the kiss before she was ready for him to do so. Eventually he broke off the kiss and pulled back to look at her, his arms still around her holding her to him - she had not released her hold around his neck either - and his eyes stared straight into hers. She saw in them a deep and fierce protective possession of her, and she shivered within his arms at the strength of that feeling, and at the animalistic nature of his protective spirit. At that moment she also realised what had happened to the former owner of his slacks, as the full meaning of his deep and fierce protection of her illustrated what he would've done. Again, the instant two-sided emotional convergence occurred: she read (and felt) his body as he saw in her eyes the recognition of what he had done, and he moved to gently disentangle himself from her and withdraw to allow her to consider what he had done in her own time. But she clung onto him fiercely, not needing time to consider: she knew he had acted as his nature had dictated out of his care for her, and that was enough. Whether or not she'd have done the same thing herself was largely inconsequential (though that small voice deep inside her suggested that, had the opportunity presented itself, it would've been vocal in its encouragement). She felt him calm and relax again in her arms as he read her acceptance in her body, her flesh melding to his within the circle of their embrace. "How is it that I can read you so well?" she asked, and her body added and you, me? "It's the way of all wolves, but mated pairs in particular," he replied, just wait and see. "We can't talk in wolf form, but we are very expressive creatures." "We?" she asked in a small voice, still considering 'mated pairs', and another shiver ran through her. "Yes," and he smiled again, holding her as she tasted the idea and decided she wasn't at all against it. Not least if it kept them together. "I'm not sure how it works," he continued, "but my theory is that it's a combination of the superb senses the wolf gives us combined with the human's capacity to draw intuitive conclusions from collated stimuli." She giggled. "Sorry," he said bashfully, "sometimes I forget not everyone thinks like my mind does." "No," she smiled, "I like it. And I follow you easily enough." He smiled and squeezed her in recognition of the double entendre of her words. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "Starving!" and at the thought of food her stomach rumbled loudly enough to echo in the cave. "Come," he said, releasing her gently and turning to leave the cave, and his body added I'm really excited because I think you're going to like this bit. She giggled again at his boyish enthusiasm but followed along behind, the cloak slipping irrelevantly from her. He stepped out of the cave and sat on his haunches just beyond the entrance. She read that he was unhurriedly waiting for her, allowing her time as she needed it. She followed, finding her limbs and muscles responding to her with a suppleness that exceeded all previous agility. She slipped from the cave and once again into the forest, and discovered a world akin, but so very different, from the one she had known before. She immediately realised she had been wrong before: it was not twilight but the dead of night, and the moon was a sliver in its waning state adding very little light. The stars were out in full and there was little cloud, but her eyes could see all as clearly as an overcast summer afternoon, yet with an intriguing black-and-white tonal edge. Too, she could hear everything: the blend of sounds of nearby nocturnal animals with the wind in the trees and a gentle trickle of water close by, yet with thought she could focus on a single sound and narrow it to a point with precision. She realised she could hear bats flying over-head and laughed with delight. Yet it was the sense of smell that was suddenly overwhelming her. Why she had not noticed before she did not know - perhaps her brain needed time to put all of the new messages in some sort of order - but now she was aware that literally everything had a unique scent, and she could sense it all at a level and dimension that was far beyond her previous experience of smell. It was so much greater - more than sight, even - as though 'smell' was the defining sense that dictated substance, shape and purpose of a thing, and both past and present because it lingered in a way that sight did not, adding a dimension of time to a sense communicated so much more; inasmuch as light aided sight, scent aided perception: nothing existed were it not for a smell. Water - out of sight - flowed beyond those rocks, and she knew how deep it was and how fast it flowed and how it would taste were she to drink it. Trees filled her head with the thick sense of spring and pine; leaves brought freshness and life and branches existed in a musty world of rich scents, as if the four seasons had been woven into the bark. The mulch of the forest floor was a rich tapestry of progress and passage; she could determine how long ago the recent leaves fell, what animals had passed by but also when they had passed. She could smell deer and rabbit and squirrel and fox, and with the slightest thought could "see" their individual scents run off in a spider's web of divergent paths through the forest. Red realised she did not have the words to describe, but nor did she need them: smell was essence, it was everything, it needed no words. With delightful anticipation she turned from her forest to her new favourite smell, and explored it with utter abandon. He smelt of maleness, first and foremost: a strong, arboreal musky fragrance, and she smiled as she recognised a deep smell of wolf behind his scent. She pushed her nose in against him and inhaled deeply, and he smelt of life, sex, and the forest, with an underlying and highly personal edge that reminded her of dark, sweetly-bitter chocolate and the freshness of rain. It was a smell she wanted to roll in and cover herself with. She suddenly realised that some time had passed and he had been sitting watching her (and smiling his smile) while she had explored the world around her with her new perceptions, and that she had rubbed her body against him and thrust her nose against his skin, hair and under his arm, and she was suddenly reminded of the day they had met when he too had thrust his nose beneath her arm. She leaned back, kneeling before him as he sat watching her, and his smile was infectious and alive and indulgent but excited for her, and she grinned back at his passion. "What next, Mister Wolf?" she asked. "We hunt," he replied. Her stomach rumbled again, and her nose reminded her that deer were plentiful and had recently passed. Saliva flooded her mouth. "Yes please," she enthused. "We will need to shift," he said, and again she sensed a trace of his trepidation: would she be revolted? She dismissed his fears with an irreverent shake of her head and sent back to him nothing more or less than acceptance and interest and partnership and love. His anxiety drifted away. "But wait," she said, "don't we need a full moon?" He laughed - not unkindly - and simply said: "Watch," and slowly he shifted. Red watched as his skin melted into fur and, with a ripping sound as the borrowed slacks were shredded to ribbons, his body tightened and lengthened and grew all at once, his snout appeared and his teeth sharpened. But his eyes remained the same. And she looked at him through new eyes and breathed, "You're beautiful." "So are you," he replied, and he hadn't spoken but she had understood him clearly through his body: an indication of the head towards her, a smile through his eyes. "Now you," he indicated, and again it was a slight inclination towards her, a small cocking of the head to suggest expectance, and a relaxing of the eyes to imply polite interest. She felt that the language of wolves was a very noble and perhaps slightly archaic language, and she decided she could get to like it very much indeed. She had no idea how to change, so she gave it no thought and instead, in the way of the wolf, simply felt her way into it. Her body blurred and melted and merged, and it wasn't painful (as she had feared it might be) or even particularly uncomfortable: she was reminded most of simply standing up from lying down, except one's body changed shape while one did so. Simple, if you didn't think about it too hard. He had jet black fur all over but as she lifted a paw to examine herself, she saw hers was a little lighter, but with streaks of golden brown. He smiled his approval. "Come," he said, and was off. She chased him, marvelling at the ease with which her body moved. He was loping away through the forest but she knew he wasn't rushing, and she had time to accommodate to travelling with four feet instead of two and a tail to balance her. It came without too much thought or effort, and though she jumped three times higher than was necessary to clear a fallen tree trunk (he laughed at her), she quickly found her body responding as she wished and then she was racing him through the trees. Together they ran, revelling in the speed and the feeling of freedom, elated at being together, and in the way of wolves as they ran they played: he swiped a branch at her as he whisked past a bush and she leapt it and him both, landing in front of him and kicking up earth at him with a laugh of her own. They made no sound but showed their humour in the ways of wolves: angles of heads, expressions of eyes, but mostly amusement was reflected in twitches of their ears. Red, Woodsman and Wolf Ch. 03 He was larger than her but she was pleased to find she was at least as fast as him. He clearly had a great deal more experience of being a wolf, but he let her learn at her own pace and as they ran he watched her learn and grow. Suddenly the scent of deer came strongly on the wind, and as one they turned to pursue. Both larger and stronger than normal wolves, each could take even a fully-antlered stag without the slightest risk, but tonight they picked a young buck and chased him down together, and she could feel his enjoyment at the hunt reflected in her own pulse as they worked in tandem to run the deer away from the herd. They killed him together, and the scent and taste of fresh blood into her wolf's palette was intoxicating and primal and savage but so very fulfilling. He let her eat by far the most (he said he wasn't that hungry), but she knew he liked watching her eat and anyway she was so utterly famished. Eventually she licked the last from her jowls and smiled her contentment at him, and he looked back at her with his ice-blue eyes. He had been watching her intently while she had finished eating. She saw how noble was the holding of his head, yet his eyes reflected his passion for her, and she knew what he had in mind. Laughing, ears twitching, she turned-tail in front of him and, kicking mud up at him in a most un-noble way, led him a race back towards the cave. He chased her and if before they had ran for a thrill of being alive and free to roam and being together, now they ran to compete, to show off to each other, and as foreplay. He could smell her on the wind, and he had no doubt that she could smell him too, and the scent of both of them now was of sex and lust and passion. Despite his greater experience she just managed to stay ahead of him, fully stretching out her long body with each enormous stride, her heart thumping within her at the thrill and excitement of racing through the forest in the dead of night, pursued by her lover and her mate. And recognising him as such was perfectly natural and right. She flicked her tail and her ears at him and he grinned back at her then snapped playfully at her heels. She didn't go back to the cave directly but pulled up beside the small stream she had noted previously. He joined her within seconds and side by side they drank their refreshment. Again he waited for her to move at her own speed, and soon she lifted her head from the stream and, licking the water from her mouth, turned towards the cave. Deliberately she lifted her tail at him, spreading her scent and arousal in the air towards him. He chuckled a wolf chuckle and watched her walk away, then lifted his head and howled his pleasure at the stars above, marking his territory. The forest went satisfyingly quiet around him, then he turned and followed her into the cave. Red shifted back as she entered the cave, delighting in the ease and natural flow of the change, her body flowing into its original form even as she moved, her steps as a wolf becoming a graceful, hands-and-feet dance across the cave floor. She lay down supine on her fine red cloak and laughed her delight and passion to the cave's echo. Then, sensing him as soon as he appeared, she lifted her head and smiled a welcome at her mate. He made a show of approaching her, still in wolf form, half playful but half wondering what form it was she wanted him in. He growled at her teasingly as he crabbed a little to the side, eyeing her nakedness as she lay, open and relaxed, her body offered to him. She watched him through new eyes, seeing him perfectly despite the low light in the cave, and her wolf-heightened hearing allowed her to listen to his heartbeat. But all of that paled into consideration at the dimensions that her sense of smell now afforded her - even in human form - as she smelt his arousal and passion combining headily with his natural musk, and accentuated by the fresh forest smells of their run and their hunt. She lay back her head and closed her eyes, inhaling slowly but deeply as she tasted that smell, letting it fill her head and her senses, languorously arching her back as she ran her own hands down over her breasts and body, inviting him to come to her. She heard him pad closer and a shiver of anticipation awakened her skin. He approached from her side and thrust his nose against her body, smelling her as he did on the day they met, feeling and sensing the softness and warmth of her flesh. His tongue slipped out, laying a long, possessive lick across her flank and stomach and up over one breast, caressing her nipple as it passed. She shuddered with pleasure at the contact, and he smiled his wolf smile. Her legs spread slowly in invitation, and he knew what she wanted, but this was his game to play. Roughly he pushed his head between her legs and his tongue wasn't gentle as it rubbed over her spread sex; her eyes flicked open as she gasped at the wet violence of his taking of her. He lapped her several times in quick succession each time driving her to new heights of arousal, and her hands fisted in his fur either side of his head, half pushing him away, half pulling him closer against her. Her soft moans filled the cave with musical echoes. Encouraged by her openness to him, he was secretly delighted that she had not requested he changed form. Yes, he was a man, but he was also a wolf - and that she accepted this simply proved to him that he had chosen well. Yet as a wolf, the course of their coupling would be dictated by him and not her, and he growled his command at her: it was a growl, and nothing more; no understanding was hidden within it beyond the basic, primal command that he intended to convey; yet she understood it as such. Turning over beneath him, her firm, smooth buttocks rubbing delightfully against his fur, she began to ready herself for him, raising her hips and lowering her head to her arms. She was offering herself to him as she had when they had first met, but whereas that had been from fear and to pacify and survive, this was to please and mate and conjoin. He mounted her as he had before, and this time without being told she reached between them, eager to feel him within her again. He thrust towards her and she guided him, and both cried out their pleasure as he entered her: hers a cry of pleasure tinged with pain; his a cry of possession and long-sought fulfilment and love. Their sex wasn't gentle and that suited both of them. It bespoke the urgency of their mutual need, and he thrust into her with an intensity and rapidity that left her able only to brace her body to his onslaught and meet his thrusts with small, high-pitched cries of her own passion. The ache from him inside her was quickly overwhelmed by the tempest of pleasure that assailed her, but it remained as a pleasurable edge; bitterness and sweetness, pain and pleasure. His length ensured that each thrust stimulated her cervix, and she clenched around his girth squeezing him and stimulating him, while each penetration caressed her g-spot. From the moment he entered her she felt her orgasm was not far away, and every thrust pushed her relentlessly towards that point, until her body yielded and she was awash in the pleasure of her climax, each onward thrust multiplying the storm of her release. Even as she clenched around him in her passion, she felt his girth expand and grow greater still, and she knew his own release was near. He howled his passion and dominance as he came, and the sound thundered and echoed off the walls of the cave, overflowing them as he released into her; she felt his seed fill her and keep coming, a flood of warm release inside her until she felt submerged and engulfed in the combination of her own pleasure, his release, and the reverberating howl of her mate's adulation. He slipped from her and sank down over her, and as he did he changed form, and she felt the liquid sense of his fur sliding away until only his skin remained, caressing her body as they collapsed together onto the cloak, but he rolled off her and lay on his back, looking up at the cave, both their hearts pounding, both able to hear their own and each other's. She turned to snuggle into his arm, but he wasn't done with her yet. He slipped his hand roughly but affectionately into her hair, wrapping it around his fist, and pulled her face down to his groin. She understood what he wished and lapped at his skin, cleaning him as he directed her, and he luxuriated under the feel of his mate's tongue as she slowly, lovingly, licked their combined essences from his skin. While she knelt beside him, her mouth working on him, his hand in her hair, unnecessarily holding her to her task yet enforcing his dominant nature in a way she quite enjoyed, she was conscious of his other hand caressing her back, stroking smoothly across her skin. She relaxed into his touch. Yet his intent was not completely benign and with each stroke his hand reached lower until he was caressing her raised bottom. She smiled as she continued to lick him but then she felt his fingers slip between the cheeks of her rump, spreading them as he did so, and on down into the slick wetness of her pussy. She jumped slightly at the unexpected intrusion but his hand in her hair held her in place. She reached out again with her tongue, and to her surprise felt his manhood beginning to grow once more. His fingers probed into her, exploring, and she was slippery with the combined juices of their earlier ardour. He slid two fingers inside her and she gasped with the penetration. His other hand pulled her head down firmly onto him, and his rising manhood slipped between her open lips. She marvelled at the smoothness and taste of him, finding him so very different in human form than wolf form, but she could not decide which she found more beautiful to her eyes. He was velvety on her tongue and growing harder by the moment until she could not hold all of him within her mouth. She began to move her head up and down, sucking him, breathing carefully as she slid down his shaft trying to take as much of him into her mouth and throat as she could. He let out a gentle groan as she sucked and licked him, devouring him, and his fingers twisted and flicked deep inside her. If she was to make him squirm, shouldn't he reciprocate? If she was to bring him to orgasm with her mouth, he would have her writhe her own orgasm on his fingers. She gasped around his aroused cock, her back arching, feeling his strong fingers penetrating her and playing in the depths of her pussy, teasing her cervix, stroking her tender g-spot, like two small snakes mating within her. He thrust against her mouth, his hips rising of their own accord, and she struggled to take the fullness of him into her mouth. One of her small hands slipped between his legs, ever so gently caressing and cupping his balls, stimulating, teasing, tickling down towards his perineum. She inhaled deeply, loving the heady smell of him, wanting to wallow in his scent that was almost tangible to her new senses. His hips began to buck and his hand came up to hold her head as he began to fuck her mouth, but he was not prepared to cum without her and he forced his fingers deeper inside her, mercilessly assaulting her cervix in the way that he knew would force her to orgasm multiple times. She bucked beneath his fingers, her body clenching with the power of the orgasm he had forced upon her, and her pussy clamped down on his fingers with a strength that surprised him. But still he drove his fingers inside her, teasing her, rubbing her, a small smile on his lips as he knew what he was doing to her. She whimpered around his cock, loving the feel of his fingers in her but wanting so much to make him cum too. And with a cry he did so, his fingers tightening almost painfully in her hair as he ejaculated into her mouth. She swallowed almost reluctantly, wanting to taste him more, but each new spurt demanding room in her mouth. In the end there was almost too much of it and she had to be careful not to allow any to overspill, but she drank all that he was able to give her, and she found him delicious: warm, liquid sex from her mate. Once he had finished he allowed his fingers to relax within her, no longer driving her relentlessly into orgasm, and his fingers slipped from her. Her small hand stroked up his softening shaft and she licked the end of him, making sure she had captured every last drop of him. Eventually she finished her task to her satisfaction and he allowed her then to slide against him. They lay for a while in companionable silence, feeling the warmth from each other's bodies and the intermingled smells of their passion, and the sense of fulfilment that each had brought the other. After a while she broke the silence, "I thought you might leave, like last time." He stroked her hair, "I'll never leave you again." She snuggled in to him at those words, content. "Why did you leave last time?" He turned towards her, one hand propping up his head as he looked earnestly down into her eyes, "I...wasn't sure how you were going to take it," he began, haltingly, "everything had happened so quickly. I hadn't intended...swept away in the moment...I thought you would need time." She knew instantly he was telling it as he understood it. Their closeness and combined senses would broach no lies or deception between them - not that she had expected there would ever be need for any. Suddenly she smiled as a thought occurred to her, and he looked confused. "What was funny?" She shook her head, "Nothing...it just occurred to me that we'll be terrible at hiding birthday surprises from one another." He regarded her with bewilderment for a fleeting moment, then barked a laugh of understanding and rich amusement. "It is new for me too, this," he said, "Even amongst my own kind I have never had one understand me as much as you." "Your own kind? How many others are there like you?" She hadn't given it a thought before this moment, but if she had she would've known that clearly there would be, and she was both keen to meet them and apprehensive too. He rolled back, looking up at the cave's ceiling once again, "I don't really know...several packs. Buy my pack is many, many days from here." She snuggled over him, her breasts pushed against one side of his chest, his arm around her. She looked down into his face, sensing longing and loss, but also determination. "Why have you left them, my love?" He looked up at her, "I left to find a mate," and he smiled up at her. She smiled back, but was still curious, "Was there no mate among your own kind?" "Ah, well...the pack wasn't big enough for both me and my brother too. I left to start my own." She nodded understanding, "You don't get on?" "Not that so much...we got on well enough at some levels...but he was the pack leader, and I think he saw me as a future threat." "Like an alpha?" she asked, recalling talk of such when wolves were mentioned. He looked at her surprised, and laughed, "Yes, like an alpha." "So will you start up a pack here?" "Yes, if you will help me." "Gladly," she replied, and she knew it was true. They had spent only a few hours together (not counting her days asleep), yet she wouldn't consider a world without him now. He smiled his satisfaction. "Do your kind usually take human mates? Is that how you grow?" His smile disappeared, and he looked almost bashful. "No, actually...it's very, very rare to do that. Almost unheard of in fact. Most werewolves are born, not made, and those that are made are usually changed through biting...consensually, contrary to rumour." "Oh! But I...?" He smiled again, looking up at her as she propped herself up on his chest, "You are the exception, my love. I was drawn to you. Something about you...called to me. I knew you would make me a fine mate. I did not stop to think, I could not have envisaged you saying no." He met her eyes, "I am sorry." She snuggled down into him, accepting his answer. "Nothing to be sorry for," she murmured into his chest, "I wouldn't change anything that happened between us." Again they lay a while in silence, content with each other's company. Slowly it grew light outside, and the cave filled with the promise of another warming day. She sat up suddenly, startling him. "What is it?" he asked, his senses reaching out for whatever danger had aroused her. "You said I'd been out for six days!" she exclaimed. "Yes?" "That makes today Wednesday!" "All day I think." "Then I must go and see my Grandmother!" "Ah," he smiled. "Will you come?" she asked, suddenly unsure whether he would want to meet her family, or how her old life would fit into her new. He smiled a slow smile and as he did so he changed back into the wolf she had come to know so well. He tilted his head towards her and lifted one paw slightly, and she read him clearly. "Of course," he'd said, "lead on." She smiled and turned into her own wolf, and together they loped from the cave and out into the forest. Grandma was in for a surprise. Also, clothes were going to be an issue. * * *