Rachael is down on her luck after losing her job, her boyfriend, and all her stuff due to a little misunderstanding. And then it starts raining. A girl will do almost anything under those circumstances, even if it means finding out she isn't the person she thinks she is. This is a book by Rachael Ross
It was deep into winter, late January or maybe even February, I didn't know, when I was out for my early morning toilet. My body was working perfectly and I was as healthy as I'd ever been in my life, despite spending many hours every day outside in the cold and damp of a Washington winter. It rained a lot, and snowed often too, but only rarely did the snow last more than a few days. Above us, in the hills and mountains, I could see the permanent snowline and the wind coming down from the northeast was always freezing.
I would run though, pumping hot blood through my veins and enjoying the sensations being outside always brought. I was strong and tough, with lean muscles and calloused feet. It was cold, of course, and some days I couldn't stay out as long as I'd have liked, mostly because my Master would keep a sharp eye on me and call me reluctantly inside. And then I'd warm myself in the fur of my brothers, pressing my feet and hands against their bellies, pressing my red nose and cheeks between their thighs. They didn't complain over this rough treatment, but welcomed me and they'd lick and nuzzle my body until we were wrestling and that was always fun.
When I'd first arrived I'd been weak and soft, little more than a puppy, but now I could hold my own and our playing was often rough. I used my hands, of course, which was the only real advantage I had, but I was quick as well. My reflexes had improved and I learned to read my brothers well, anticipating their movements. And while I got my fair share of scratches and bites, more often than not I could force any one of them down, wrapping my legs around him as I pushed his heads up and back, baring the dog's throat to my teeth and I'd bite him hard, but only barely able to break the skin at all.
It was fun and exhausting and utterly exciting as we always ended up mating soon after. I found that I enjoyed getting Bush on his back the most because he always became excited when we wrestled. His long red cock would slip from its sheath and stay hard more often than not, so that I could straddle him and press his cock into my sex that way. He would lay there patiently, while I rode his penis and he would even let me kiss him, which had become a new thing for us. I would lick his mouth and slip my tongue over his sharp teeth, teasing him until he would chase it into mine. His long tongue would lick and explore my mouth then, or I would suck it until he jerked his head trying to free himself and then come back for more. And all the while I would be fucking myself silly on his penis.
Our Master enjoyed these games quite a lot and he'd taken to coming into our room with his morning coffee and the paper, just relaxing while we wrestled for his amusement. The room was well insulated and warm and if there was a heaven on earth for dogs, I think my brothers and I would have agreed that we were living in it.
The one morning it was early when I went out, still very dark and it had snowed during the night. I left my brothers sleeping, slipping outside and sniffing the crisp air, feeling that little shock as I stepped ankle deep through the hard, crispy surface of the snow. The air was warm though, or at least there wasn't much of a wind, which I appreciated.
I stretched briefly and it felt good like that, so I ran, which made it even better. I'd grown to love exercising, as all dogs do, and running across the uneven fields towards the stream was just enough to speed up my heart and warm the blood in my veins. My breath left small clouds of fog behind me and I only wished that I had real legs instead of arms, so that I wouldn't have to run upright all the time, which seemed awkward and alien to me.
I was washing myself in the stream, which had just a little ice forming along the banks where the water moved slowly. It was bitterly cold, of course, and I rubbed my hands over my body briskly, spending most of my attention on my sex and lower, washing my ass thoroughly. It was stimulating and refreshing, not so much sexually as just naturally, like I might have been the only person on the earth during those moments, and not really a person at all, but a part of nature.
Then I caught his scent, just barely on a small breeze that came and went so quickly I might have imagined it. He'd been careful, I knew, trying to stay downwind, but the air was fickle and I'd found him. My heart seemed to expand as it pumped hot blood through my veins and I felt my stomach tighten, my legs grew tense, the muscles taut like springs. My hands had become like claws without me realizing it. I was crouched there, in the water, staring at a dense thicket of leafless brush behind my right shoulder.
It took a second or two before I could discern him in the dim light. It was very dark and the moon was but half-full and low in the western sky, but there he was a shadow hiding in the shadows. It was his eyes that gave him away, narrow slits of yellow, and then the breeze picked up again and I shivered from either the cold or more likely his musky scent, the invisible stain that brought a flood of adrenaline and urged me to move.
I didn't turn quite towards him, but moved at an angle, keeping my body low and my head down. I splashed softly across the stream and then stepped onto the bank, moving slowly to be sure of my footing. My feet were getting a little numb and any other morning I would have been on my way back home by now, but I couldn't run, not yet, that would have been bad for many reasons.
He moved with me and I heard more than saw the rustling branches, the shadows melting together so that I lost sight of him in the confusion. But he was there, I could sense him now and I knew what he wanted. I growled softly, not so much a warning as it was an invitation, rather like teasing him for being so timid with me. It was a challenge as well, telling him that if he wanted me, he'd have to take me. He'd have to prove his worth. And when I heard his soft voice reply, I took off, laughing silently with my mouth open wide, grinning at this new and unexpected game.
My nipples were hard and burning against the cold morning, and steam rose from my body as I became flushed with excitement. I ran along the edge of the fields, jumping and skipping on occasion, ducking quickly as my reflexes worked to avoid branches and stones and fallen, half-hidden logs from years long past. It was exhilarating and I no longer noticed the morning chill or the snow under my feet. He was chasing me and I wasn't running to safety.
The sound of his footsteps grew heavy, the steady panting of his breath seemed to lick at my heels as I ran. He was close upon me and when he lept into the still morning air, I sensed it. The rhythm of his gait suddenly changed and I dodged left, side stepping and bending my body so that the wolf seemed to fly past me, his head turning and jaws snapping at the air where my right shoulder had been a split second before.
And then I was on him, springing before the animal even landed, so that as he tried to turn I was falling onto his thickly furred back, grabbing deep handfuls of coarse hair and skin. My legs spread over his hindquarters so that I scissored them instinctively, trying to lock my ankles beneath his belly, pressing my heels between his powerful thighs.
The wolf had been turning to his left, trying to stop himself, and my momentum took us to his right so that he lost his balance completely and I pulled him over. I was on my right side in the snow, and so was the wolf now, with my legs around him and my hands digging into his shoulders. The wolf's head turned left, his eyes red and furious and filled with lust. I could feel his cock hard and expanding from its sheath beneath my feet. I brought my right hand up quickly, sliding it under the animal's chin and pressing with my palm, fingers wide and spread to avoid his razor teeth. I pushed his head up as I brought my own head down, finding the wolf's throat and I bite him there, finding the thinnest part of his skin, tasting his hair and feeling his flesh under my teeth.
He shook his head wildly, but I held him with all of my strength using my position and weight for leverage, keeping the wolf on his side. His legs scrambled for purchase in the snow and against the frozen earth beneath. I held his head so that his long snout was pointed upward, his jaws closed under the strain of my arm and hand. And I had his throat in my mouth, for perhaps 20 seconds, long enough for the animal to know that I had him. I could have killed him right then if I'd wanted, ripped into his jugular and bathed in his blood.
It had been a a short and quiet fight, with little more than grunts and soft growls, but now the wolf gave a guttural whine, low and gravelly, but distinctive and yielding. I let go of him with my teeth and then relaxed my grip enough so that he could scramble away if he wanted to. Of course the wolf didn't move, not right away, he just lay there, looking at me as we both panted for air.
He was the same animal that had taken me during the ceremony and he'd tracked me down, probably some time ago, but with my three brothers about everyday, he'd been unable to do little more than observe carefully from a distance. Now we were together once more, and we'd run and fought, and now I was feeling the need for more, the need to give him what he'd come for. I stroked the animal gently, putting my face next to his so that I could share his breath. I licked along his muzzle, the tip of my tongue slipping along his teeth and a second later his own long wet tongue found my cheeks and lips and nose.
I pushed him up and away, making room so that I could kneel in the snow we'd disturbed, taking my position and eager for the animal to mount me. I was hot inside and out and no part of me was numb or cold any longer. The wolf looked around for a moment, sniffing the air and whining softly until he was certain we were alone and then he was on me, his hips moving as he stabbed his penis against me, searching for the furnace of my cunt.
When he found it finally, I gave a soft cry of pleasure as my lover pushed himself inside me entirely and began pumping his cock along the slick channel of my ready sex. He was large, perhaps as large as my brothers, but not nearly so fat as them. He was lean and hungry and smelled of a fresh kill, perhaps a rabbit from the night before.
He was scratching me, fucking me much as he had before and unwilling to take his own weight, but rather gripping my hips with his paws, gouging my flesh as he struggled to keep his balance. I was shivering and shaking, and pushing myself back to meet him. I'd gown so excited by our chase and quick, violent contest that I was cumming very nearly as soon as the wolf had entered me. My arms felt weak as I braced myself upright, arching my back and pushing to keep my thighs vertical under the animal's weight.
As he fucked me, the wolf's knot was already inside and it began swelling quickly, expanding to stretch and fill my cunt without the usual pressure of being forced between my wet and swollen labia. That was good for me and another sensation designed to push me headlong into orgasm. The wolf growled as I sagged briefly, changing the angle of his attack on my sensitive womb and the long tapered head of his prick pressed against the tenderness of my cervix, making me gasp and roll my hips instinctively, wanting more of that painful pleasure.
He was close to cumming, the animal's strokes becoming shorter and more rapid as the knot had grown large enough to lock us completely together. It could move only a small bit either way and the feeling was every bit as intense as I remembered from the dreamlike ceremony so many months before. He dropped his head onto my shoulder, licking at my hair and my burning skin beneath, and then he was cumming, his hot sperm shooting deep inside me and bringing another climax that made me whine loudly in the pre-dawn gloom.
An owl suddenly flew into life a few dozen yards away and I was only barely able to realize that I'd been making a lot of noise, more noise than I should have been. The wolf was still cumming when he pushed himself off my back, turning awkwardly on his hinged cock so that we were butt to butt with his penis still deep inside me. We could hear my brothers barking, calling for me in the distance and the wolf growled softly, the fur on his shoulders rising.
It would be bad, I knew, if we were discovered like this. The other dogs would attack and the wolf would be hard pressed to defend himself even if he weren't locked up with me. I might be able to stop them, but I doubted it, and all I could do was hope that the swelling of the wolf's knotted muscle would go down quickly.
The good news was that we were away from where I usually bathed, and on the opposite side of the stream, making it harder for my brothers to track me. There was little wind and the brush was thick as well, and we were low in the shadows. The sun had not yet risen, and wouldn't for some time. It was still dark enough that the wolf and I were invisible from any reasonable distance. A human would have had to step on us before he'd know we were there, and a dog's eyesight is really not that much better; scent and sound was what would give us away. Especially the smell of our mating which would carry a long ways should even a small breeze pick us up.
They were near the stream now, all three of the dogs, barking excitedly and wondering why I wasn't answering. The wolf and I were barely a hundred yards away, probably less than that on a direct line, and my mate was looking around nervously, tugging at the knot lodged in my cunt so hard that I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. I said nothing though, not even a small growl of protest, I merely endured his impatience as he tested our predicament every few seconds until with a distinct and very uncomfortable pressure, the knot squeezed out of me with a heavy wash of juice.
He was free finally and the wolf, my mate, gave me a brief look before moving quickly into the darkness and back up into the hills surrounding us. I let out my breath slowly, not quite realizing that I'd been holding it against the pain, and reached down to feel my pussy. I was sore and my flesh seemed swollen and misshapen somehow. Semen and other juices from our mating ran hot and thin from my sex and I rose to my feet slowly, making my way back to my brothers who were circling the opposite bank.
They were unhappy, I could tell, because they could smell the wolf on me and as they sniffed my cunt they growled and yelped, taking only brief licks to satisfy themselves that I'd mated with a stranger. I was getting cold again and by the time I'd reached the house my feet were very cold, so that it hurt when I tried to warm them with my hands. I was uncomfortable for several hours like that, wrapped in the quilts, still unwashed as I wanted to savor the feeling of the wolf's sperm inside me. The smell of him in my hair. My brothers ignored me, however, and so I was ignoring them as well, although I desperately wanted to feel them close beside me.
I wanted to tell them also about my experience, how I'd fought the wolf and beaten him. I felt a great sense of pride in that, but there are no sounds so specific in the tongue of dogs, only the sharp barking of victory that could mean almost anything really. But it was inside my heart, that victory, and when our Master arrived with our breakfast I dared speak with him for the first time in six months without being first addressed by him.
"I fought him..." I said weakly from my bed, my voice cracking slightly and my heart pounding, excited at the thought of speaking and fearful that my Master would be angered by it.
He glanced at me, perhaps unsure that he'd heard me.
"The wolf..." I licked my lips and cleared my throat. "He was..." I had to search for the right words, " ... waiting for me, by the stream."
"The wolf?" My Master sounded puzzled and he walked over while my brothers ate quickly, filling the room with the sounds of it.
"From the ... thing, the place before..." I couldn't think of the word ceremony and I frowned. "The wolf who mated with me, he was here."
My Master squatted down next to me and he opened the quilt I was wrapped in slowly until he could see the scratches on my body. Several of them were deep and caked with dried blood, and I ached there. My sex too was tender and I spread my legs slightly, as if offering proof, showing my Master that I'd been recently fucked and treated roughly when the wolf had pulled out of me.
"Shit. What happened to you, Dare?" he asked, touching my face and pressing his palm to my forehead. "You're burning up."
"The wolf, I fought him. He chased me and we fought and I beat him." I smiled and I know my eyes were shining as I relived the experience. "He chased me," I repeated, "and I had his throat. I took him. I beat him and then he took me."
I felt like I was talking nonsense and none of the words I wanted to say were coming from my lips. I just kept saying the same things over and over, hoping my Master would understand how I felt. I'd proven myself, I thought, I'd done something special, fighting a wolf in the dead of winter, in the dark and distant wood. Any one of my brothers would have lost that fight, I thought, they could not have taken the wolf, not like that, not alone. But I had and I was trying to explain that when I fell asleep.
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