Author's Note: This is smut and assumes you're over 18 in reading it. Tags: World of Darkness, Werewolf: The Forsaken, male human x female werewolf: vaginal masturbation, male dom, vaginal sex, awoo~ “Heya Red Riding Hood.” Sometimes, the joke just shows its age. Johnny can’t quite complain though. He does wear the red hoodie for a reason. And the reason’s staring right at him from the porch she’s sitting on. No-one would be able to tell from the sheer bulk and muscle the pretty brunette with the dirty hair, the ragged denim pants and the ratty white tank top, covered by a way oversized and worn leather biking jacket, after all, that she’s on the verge of another Change. Capital C Change, yes. Johnny’s learned to rightly fear and respect that about Rose one night. The slight glint in her dark blue eyes actually showing a light glow unnerves and excites the freckled redheaded youth, equally looking dishevelled and worn. But where the young woman in front of him looks hearty and hale, he looks a little on the thin side, perhaps even meek. His voice comes without trepidation, however. He’s known her for what, at least six years, since they were stuck back in Houston. Kind of amazing they lasted this long, actually. It’s not something he likes to think back about. Neither about them shuddering in a chill, awkwardly recounting how they got stuck on the streets to begin with. The constant companions of the homeless: hunger and fearing the guy next to you. Or the violence of being accosted and assaulted by three drug-hopped older kids ready to shiv them for the change they had four years ago. Amazingly enough, everything after that orgy of blood, the flush of hair, muscle and protective rage, however, he does look back on more fondly. “Hey Rose,” Johnny responds, smiling warmly at his companion. “Ready to move out? I think the meat house at Elm Street’s about to be deserted, and the light fixtures still haven’t been fixed,” he says, moving his hands about rather animatedly towards the seated young woman. She’s tensing where she sits, however, anxious, fighting the Change. Every month or so, she feels herself grow more fretful, fettered even. And in the four years she’s known Johnny since that dreadful slaughter, she never lost that fear she might lash out at him. But the dopey looking kid (she can say that, he’s one year her junior) with the rosy cheeks and the cute pointed nose never gave up on her. So why the hell should she? “Lucky break. You gonna head out first? I gotta stash my clothes again,” Rose says with a low, dreading tone, still none too happy with this. “That’s the plan, lover,” he responds with a chuckle. “I’ll head on out first. You make your way down to that lease office on Main.” Rose starts scratching at the bandages around her left arm. Some stitches she got from the uni medical center a ways up town. “Man, that place still didn’t get scooped up?” “Considering we’re not exactly leaving it in disrepair and the hobo throngs also keep it tidy? I’m counting my blessings. Just stash them under the boxes there. Keep out of sight until I give the signal.” Rose gives a rather loud snort at that, bursting into chuckles. “You know, it’s usually the werewolf that does the howling.” Johnny just gives a casual roll of his shoulders, looking back a moment when a car speeds on by behind them through the street. “Eh. I like switching up on expectations.” Something corny like that usually is a point where Rose expects him to lean up to her and kiss her somewhere on the face, actually looking up in anticipation. The grinning dork just doesn’t for the longest while, almost forcing Rose to snap up to him. “Go on then, before I’m– !!” His lips press under the brunette’s nose against her own, sucking lightly on her lips in the quick, tender shared moment between them. And just as quickly, the guy leans away, spinning about for the butchery a ways down. Rose watches him leave under the veil of darkness, only barely lit by the poorly maintained street lighting. “Dork,” she mutters under her breath, before she makes for a quick jog towards the abandoned office-turned-hobo hideout a ways down the street. She didn’t have much time to waste, after all. And damn it, she likes these shoes. She doesn’t want to lose them in the Change. Johnny heads on out behind the red-brick meat market, approaching it from the open and mostly abandoned parking lot. The lighting ahead has all manner of open potholes and removed pavement tiles, maintenance in progress. And next to no light lighting the slaughterhouse and delivery entrance to Rudolph’s. He’s weary, however. Pedestrians, even this late out at night, are few and far between, so they’re usually bad news. For a moment, when he sees three more people in big, bulky coats working the security roller shutters, he’s worried that his careful prep and staking out was all for nothing. But a closer look tells him they’re with tools of their own for breaking and entering: boards, a crowbar, one guy even trying to lift the shutters himself. They look to be wearing pretty ratty and beat up clothes, themselves, in the ever more piercing light of the full moon bearing down overhead. Probably not the work crew. Probably not the shop staff. Probably not friendly, either. This could complicate things. He didn’t account for more people trying to break in to the meat shop, considering he didn’t see anyone else stake the place out in the previous nights. Carefully, the wiry young man makes his approach to the men working to open the service entrance. Maybe convince them about the security still being live despite knowing for sure knows it’s busted – he did cut the wires himself. Get them away from a dangerous spot so out in the open, despite already figuring it being pretty safe for a break-in for Rose and him before. Any doubts about his approach were smashed aside, however, when one of the other homeless men noticed him, darting his obscured face towards Johnny and giving a few sweeping motions to his companions at the door as well. Well shit. Spotted. Might as well play it cool and safe. One hobo looking out for the others, right? “Eeevenin’ guys,” Johnny drawls rather comfortably, despite the fear steadily building in him. The men ahead don’t make any sudden moves, though they do all turn around to watch him. Gathering his courage, Johnny talks on, trying to keep his cool act. His posture slumps, but his legs already are ready to carry him running. Goodness knows he’s had to run before. “All’s clear still, but uh, breaker’s inside for the alarms.” The vagrants talk among themselves a moment, before one slowly rises up. The one with the crowbar. Well shit. “Piss off, kid. We know about the breaker,” the man’s deep and somewhat growling voice comes out. He makes a slow approach, a confident swagger in the hobo’s stride. His own jacket looks more like a poncho, a bit stained with what looks like mud or clay. He’s still a good ways away from Johnny, when the man suddenly stops and stands bolt upright. Snorting. Sniffing. Actually flinching and keeping his crowbar in front of him. “Kag’ur ere! Galsked, kag’ur ere!“ Just what the fuck did that man just scream back to his companions? Johnny doesn’t rightly care either when he spots the two slouched men way back move towards their mate like quicksilver, not even rising to their feet, but almost gliding, low to the ground, towards the upright man. He’s screaming and pointing towards Johnny, crying out something that sounds like ‘take’ or ‘teke,’ but he’s already turning around and running. Fear grips his heart. But he can outrun three guys easily. Pity they weren’t guys. The sound of tiny footsteps and chitters follows behind him, and he can actually feel something hanging on to his coat. He turns his head around to find a rat the size of his head clinging to the lower end of his hoodie, and another one climbing his jeans. He doesn’t even get a curse out or a cry in surprise, instead making for the chain fences on the other side of the parking lot. He doesn’t even make it that far. The men, for as much as they were men, run up while the rats – a dozen easily – try to overwhelm him. He falls with a crash into the pavement, rolling on his side to try and catch his fall, but finds himself soon face to face with a veritable swarm of approaching black rats and two of the men still dressed in their oversized coats barreling down towards him, their limbs extended grotesquely from their sleeves and pointed whiskered snouts poking from under the hoods. “Oh Christ,” the young man mutters, already fearing he’s breathing his last. His thoughts flash back to the blood and the knives and the three junkies beating down on Rose, on him when he tried to pull them off of her, on the fear, the powerlessness, the– A low growl fills the night air behind the two rat men. Thick, plodding paws crash into the pavement for emphasis as a naked, barely human form twists and gnarls, growing thicker, heavier, hairier with every step. The sound turns to a monstrous bark that causes every single pair of eyes to twist back and up behind them. Bone and skin snaps audibly when the hulking, slouched form of the werewolf reaches its full peak. Pale blue eyes glow towards the mass of rodents, the two men staring perplexed, and the young man still caught by the swarm of rats. Then comes the terrifying howl, the sound of an animal so enraged it chills the very core. Several of the rats already flee, while Johnny sits, perplexed, entranced and afraid. The two men scream their fear, in a language he doesn’t understand, or barely can process. His eyes are on the brown hulk of muscle, of fur, of rage and passion in front of him, that barrels into the man with the crowbar and tears into him with both her heavy paws easily as big as Johnny’s chest. The man gets tossed to the ground, not even having gotten a chance to scream out. Instead, with his body heavily thudding down into the pavement, a veritable surge of black rats erupts from under the coat and flees for their lives across the street and the parking lot. The rats all flee once the first swarm disperses, squeaking and crying out for cover and safety. The last man standing just backs off, before he quickly runs off as well into the night, lit only by the pale moon glowing down onto the lot. Huffing and puffing, the great brown werewolf turns her gaze towards the prone young man, who sits there still petrified, but his eyes are wide with adoration as well. The great she-wolf lowers on all fours, her back hunching up as she moves to sit in front of Johnny. Those gigantic hands and terrifying claws wrap delicately around his back and chest, pulling the prone youth up into the warm, furry chest of the werewolf. She’s still snarling, she’s absolutely livid, but she’s holding on to him for dear life. Johnny sinks into the warmth of the she-wolf, lifting his left hand up against the oversized paw and towards her face. Her snout tenses and sniffs at the blood and scrapes on his hand, before the long, warm tongue slithers across his wounds, lapping at his palm. That’s easily the fourth time she’s saved his life in the guise of the wolf. And Johnny couldn’t be happier. Even though Rose is snarling, a barely restrained mountain of animal anger, he pulls himself up against her chest and hugs her muscular body tightly, planting his lips on hers own, down on her dangerous white teeth even. The werewolf’s snout relaxes, her lips drawing down when the human purses his lips against hers and smooches lightly. Her tongue draws out of her maw, lavishing the equally frightened as relieved ginger teen across his face with her affection. She smells heady and heavy on his nose, her breath a little acerbic. But in that moment, there is only relief and love between them. Even if Johnny, for his experience, is basically kissing what amounts to be an eight foot tall wolf. When he finally pulls from Rose, who’s still squeaking down at him like an oversized husky to lick at his cheeks, he steps back, holding her massive hands into his much smaller own. He’s grinning, despite the ache to his limbs, the fear still riding through his veins. She’s relaxing, her breathing steadying. Her thick digits run over his red hoodie – it protected him again, it would seem. Johnny takes a deep breath, letting the last of his fears pass over him. “Come on, Rosie. Let’s get you dinner.” He steps past the seated werewolf, keeping his right hand stretched out to her in passing. Rose follows after him, her pace quickly matching and surpassing his towards the meat house. The ratmen did plenty to pry the shutters open. It might be heavy load for a lanky dude like Johnny to lift. Though for a massive she-wolf, the shutters about crash upwards and out of their rails with a lift from a mighty paw, actually causing the shutters to fall back down along its rail when the two enter through the delivery entrance. All goes dark, and for Johnny, there’s only the dull scent of acidic cleaning residue, and the heady scent of wolf next to him, growling, breathing heavily besides him. The smells of the abattoir within has Rose’s hackles raised, her nose primed. There are artificial smells all over, the salts to clean away the lipids, the disinfectants, assaulting her sensitive snout. But then there’s also the blood, the marrow, the cartilage and meat, teasing her with the promise of a feast she hasn’t enjoyed in a long time. But where she can navigate the dark of the abattoir just fine by smell and touch alone, Johnny fares a little worse, pretty much left in the dark. And he’s not at all prepared for the werewolf suddenly slamming him back into the shutters with her sheer bulk, the sheer rage her form entails almost consuming her. “Rose, what the hell!” Johnny calls, more surprised than afraid, but feeling his heart skip a beat right there. The great she-wolf answers with her massive maw approaching his head, her hot breath washing over his face. Sharp teeth drag over his cheeks. His breathing picks up in mounting fear. And yet part of him also feels his flesh steel. The smell of his Rose, his girl, fill his much weaker nose as she simply presses herself against him. Her warm tongue gives another hungry lap across his lips. He responds quickly, his hands gripping the muscular wolf’s chest, his hands pressing into her large breasts coated by a thick layer of fur. Rose growls low from the back of her throat, tasting at his mouth, working her maw towards his neck. She can taste his fear from her sweat. She can taste his arousal as well, though. Though the rage still eats at her, she also feels more than just hunger. Rose draws back from Johnny, keeping her massive body pressed back into him. She spins around, moving like silver grace. The werewolf lifts her large, fluffy tail, the hairs tickling Johnny’s neck and face. Her warmth presses into his jeans, swollen and moist. “God damn it, Rosie...” Johnny mutters, finally daring to breathe again. His hands lower towards the large, broad hips of the she-wolf, gripping at them tightly. She presses herself back against him, her male, growling hungrily back. The fear and arousal are an exquisite blend that encourages the young man. His right hand dips under her tail, feeling for the triangular folds of her animal cunt. He had no idea how big, how hot she had gotten – whether it’s the fight from earlier and saving his life, or bestial craving overtaking her, he doesn’t care. “Rosie wants a treat?” he asks low. In a moment of repressed rage and lust, the werewolf whines out to him, pressing back into his groin. “Good girl,” he says, clear as day. He arches his pointer and middle fingers to hook them into the warm hole. A low whine leaves the werewolf as his fingers find the thick, corrugated muscles of her vulva already tightening for him in bitch want. He doesn’t often partake of Rose like this, but it’s a part of her he has since accepted. And truth be told? He very much enjoys the exotic sensation of her body, woman and wolf alike. His left hand fumbles at his hoodie, unzipping the front. Then towards his pants to draw them open. His underpants are pulled aside. His erection throbs against the warm, rough muscle sticking out from Rose’s groin. He can hear the angry she-wolf sniff, huff, puff. She can smell his flesh, his own desire. She lowers herself on all fours, and then lower still, lifting her arse up towards him while her lower body plants itself low against the cold tiles of the meat house plant. Johnny draws himself against her, pressing his crown against her moist, dripping twat. Her voice growls out. Her body presses back. And then comes the exquisite heat surrounding and suffusing his dick. He immediately pulls himself into her, the wolf barking out as she feels his meat fill her body. Her walls clamp around him in want, tightly tensing and pulling at his length. The ginger slowly leans over the broad, muscular back of his guardian and lover. His hands wrap around her barrel body, caressing the girl’s ribs through her thick coat. Johnny rubs his face into the hairy nape of her shoulder and neck, savouring her peculiar scent, adoring the way she pricks into his face with her body pressing back to him. Rose humps back desperately into her man, her alpha, feeling his root and his nuts press into the outward jutting portion of her cunt. His sack rests on the downward pointing tip of her vulva a little longer, before he starts to pull back out of Rose. Her cunt squelches and clamps around him, not wanting him to pull away. She finds herself rewarded with another balls-deep thrust into her body, as well as his hands slowly moving up along her back to grip her nape. Her body responds in kind, grinding back into his groin. Her voice is gruff, inhuman, but her whine and growl begs back towards the young man in the red hood. “Jhaanneee-“ His fingers squeeze tightly at her scruff of her neck, pulling at the thicker skin, the more bristled fur. He harshly pulls at the hide, forcing her to pull her chest off the ground. Johnny pushes into her body as he maintains his grip for purchase. The squeezes turn moderately painful, but Rose responds quite favourably to the hold he has on her, to his establishing of dominance. “Rosie,” he rumbles, keeping his body flush against her back. “Biiish.” “My bitch,” he agrees. Another deep fuckpump has the she-wolf whine out towards him, clamp all the tighter around him. His hips slowly take on a steady cadence, filling the air with lurid wet squelches of her sopping quim squishing against his groin. She wants to move faster, but his squeezes tell her to slow down. Alpha wants to take it slow, her hunger and lust be damned. Another low whine leaves the she-wolf as his dick plows into her eager body. Her walls tighten rhythmically around and against his dick, pulling at the shaft and bloated crown when he is sheathed entirely in her, and cling desperately around his meat when he pulls back out. Johnny’s fingers clutch into her fur, his fingernails digging into skin so thick he can barely pierce it. When he leans back into the shutters, his hips move to his own pace, one that steadily mounts as he slams himself into her again and again. Rose’s rock hard claws dig into the tiles of the floor and actually scraping them apart. Her entire body rocks back and forth in time to alpha’s wants, her feet and hands planting themselves more firmly onto the floor. Her voice cracks into a whimper and a moan both at once, her plump pussy soaking eager bitch juices over Johnny’s shaft and balls on his every stroke inwards. Rose’s voice cries out in a howl, a long and longing cry that fills the halls of the meat store and rings into Johnny’s ears. It encourages him, pumping faster and faster into his girl, feeding into her desire. “Quiet, baby, quiet baby,” he mutters a few times over, silencing her begging cries two words at a time until she’s back to a slavering, panting monster only barely restrained by her rage and her lust alike. Johnny slumps over her back, tightly wrapping his arms around her sides for purchase. His blunt teeth tightly bite down into her nape, causing Rose to yelp out in submission. While they’re unable to pierce her supernaturally thick hide, she feels her ears pin back for this mere human, the hulking she-wolf eagerly slamming back into her male. Johnny’s hips move faster and faster, his nuts slapping against the point jutting from her lower portion of her twat, the bottom of his shaft grinding into the swell of her swollen and sensitive clitoris lining her vent. Both grind hard into one another, the thick vulva almost tensing around his dick’s root and nuts like a firm palm. She’s stroking her off with her coarse walls, milking his cock like an animal in heat. She’s whimpering and crying out as she feels herself near release, her walls suddenly taking a more erratic squeezing rhythm when his shaft’s underside keeps rubbing her clit. She howls out, a short, violent burst of release that rings in both their ears before Rose whimpers in submission for Johnny. He won’t stop thrusting, or stimulating her sensitive thumb-thick muscle. She can’t help herself with another short-lived whine, another peak with his deep thrusts that rub her so fiercely. Thick, heady juices spill from her quim, soaking him on her every climb to another cum. Rose can barely milk him consciously. She’s just reduced to a hole to plow into. One that soon is gripped by a firm hand and squeezed by his own palm around his dick, actually forcibly masturbating his own pumping shaft with her jostling, jilling flesh. Another howl lilts from her maw, unable to restrain herself despite alpha’s wishes. In that moment, he erupts. Shamelessly, he groans into his bitch, plowing into her even as thick spurts of his seed fill the lining of her animal cunt. The werewolf’s plump vulva stays tight around his throbbing organ in his hand, her walls repeatedly clamping around him even as he’s spent himself inside of her. The werewolf sinks on her hands and knees, a warm, fluffy carpet for Johnny to collapse back into. The rage subsides. And with it, her massive form shrinks down, considerably so. Her posture sinks, her back, hips and shoulders realigning smoothly under his body. Hair shrivels and actually reabsorbs into her thick skin, giving way to her much paler skin than the wolven colouration would otherwise imply. There is some cracking and tensing, but the changes seem a lot less violent like this. Her back loses its hunched arch, her limbs growing thinner, more limber, definitely humane – claws notwithstanding. She would easily stand from feet to head about six and a half foot tall, still towering over the lanky ginger atop of her otherwise. His left hand strokes through the coarse, brown hair still poking out from across her tensing shoulder and to the thick muscles of her left upper arm. His right keeps stroking at the thick curls of what has shrunken down from wolf quim to human outer lips. He doesn’t pull back out of Rose, changed into a far more manageable wolf-man than whatever that horrifyingly fuck-off huge she became to protect him with, again. He simply pats her thick biceps, whispering soft words of appreciation into her pointed ears. They quiet down to soft smooches and sucks to her neck, making Rose moan out in a low tone of voice. “Hey...” she tiredly croaks. “Hey.” “You fucked up,” she murmurs. “You saved me.” “Well. Now we’re even.” “If that’s what it takes for you to settle a debt, Rose.” “Hey?” “Yeah?” “How ‘bout getting us some meat, Red?” Johnny laughs after Rose, kissing her neck softly again. “Yeah. In a bit.” *** The howls are not unnoticed. After all, how could they ever be ignored? Spirits cried out in horror and in anger, encouragement in others’ voices. The stink of the Beshilu is still heavy on the winds. A muscular black man in the guise of a white-haired Dalu regards the busted looking shutter gate to Rudolph’s shop with disdain. His companion, a blond and dark-skinned woman, pats lightly on his shoulder. “Come on,” she says, “we’ve got to report the interlopers to our Elders.” “An Uratha without a pack with lu’u for companion? I’m more surprised he hasn’t tailed off yet into the darkness. How long do you think they have been together?” “If the smells are an indication, he saw it all. The rats. The swarm. The Gauru. I can still taste them on my nose and lips,” the Hishu woman says with some disdain and a strained expression. “Think the Elders would force them apart?” the white-haired Dalu asks back towards his packmate. “Can’t speak for them, Marcus. But I know we’ll have a hell of a job reigning in either of them. Part of me think it’d be easier if they were together.” “And a part of the flock not running away to safety isn’t a liability?” the Dalu shoots back, more sounding concerned than aggravated. “Who knows?” his companion responds. “All I know, is that they’re in this together. And may have been for a long-ass while.” The blonde turns around to leave, heading towards the side of the raised wall of the roof they’re on. “You coming, Marcus?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. But let’s give them a little while to run off before we report back.” “Don’t think we have long, man. Spirits have been noisy. Her scent’s all over Elm Street and has been for days. Elders will know what to do with them. First thing tomorrow night.” The dark-skinned Dalu grins back a pearly white smile to his companion, rising up to follow after her, his own fur shrinking back to hide his bestial traits. “Sounds like a plan.” They leave for the streets, heading away into the moonlit night. Those two moon-struck lovers would have at least a little time to themselves before they’re thrust into another bout of danger.