The Dare story continues as the Onijwa, a young woman possessing the spirit of a wolf, finds herself without a Master. Caught between two worlds, will she find a home with her human neighbors, or can she join her mate's Pack hunting in the wild? Only time...and Fate...will tell. -Note: you should read "Dare Book I" before reading this sequel.
We had another dinner early that evening, a meal that we didn't really need, but neither I nor my three brothers complained about it. It wasn't the sort of food our Master had served us at night. He'd liked to feed us stew usually, made from beef or venison, occasionally chicken with the bones carefully removed, and always with a rich gravy stirred into wild rice usually. Joe's sons didn't know about that custom though, so they'd fed us dog food again, but it was still good the way they mixed it all up, even if it did confuse us just a little at first.
Both of the boys brought the bowls in this time and my brothers were too tired to get very excited. They just barked lazily for a minute or two and then concentrated on eating. I was right there with them, of course, getting my fair share even though we'd had a very large breakfast and we didn't need all that food. Mike and Jay watched us and whispered together. They giggled like children and I thought they were talking about me probably, but I didn't know what they were saying.
I was never very interested in what people had to say to each other, even my Master when he would speak with Joe, it wasn't something I paid very much attention to. Not the words at least. I listened more to the tone of his voice and his posture, the look in his eyes. Those were the things that told me all I needed to know, and as I lifted my head from the bowl, licking my lips, I glanced at the two boys and they were easy enough to understand. They were males and I'm a female and there was an eagerness about them, expressed physically in subtle but unmistakable ways.
They desired me.
I didn't find them attractive at all, not like I did my brothers and most especially my mate, but the boys were interesting to me for other reasons. I missed my Master. I missed his hands more than anything, except perhaps his voice. I longed to be touched by human hands, to have my body stroked and my head scratched. I wanted to be petted and groomed. I missed the attention and those boys would never substitute for my Master, that was impossible, but just to feel their hands would give me some small measure of comfort perhaps. I was very sad inside and looking for ways to be healed.
I moved across the floor slowly, leaving Bush to finish what was left in our bowl. I was crawling like a dog, keeping my eyes down with my hair falling around me. I was showing off for the boys, letting them see me as I moved deliberately and exposing every part of me in one way or another. My muscles flexed beneath my light brown skin when I stretched and I moved my shoulders so that my firm, smallish breasts would sway slightly beneath me. I turned my ass to their gaze, undulating my hips as I crawled less than ten feet in front of them. I dropped my head, growling softly, wordlessly urging them to take me as I displayed my sex in open invitation. I was flagging the two boys and they weren't making a sound.
My brothers hadn't noticed my parade yet or they might have been drawn to take me themselves, although they generally preferred to relax for a little while after eating dinner. My sex was growing moist and my heart beating rapidly as I continued my seductive behavior. If the boys had been dogs I would have come closer to them, nipping at them playfully, urging them to give me the attention I was demanding. These were humans though, and so I was wary and coy and waiting for them to understand what it was I wanted.
They continued to talk in hushed tones while they licked their lips and rubbed their faces and shifted their weight from one foot to the other, unable to decide what they should do. We played like that for nearly five minutes I think before the sound of Joe's truck interrupted us. It was a sound my brothers and I knew well enough and we ignored it, but the effect on the two Indian boys was immediate.
"Oh shit. Dad's here!" Mike, the smaller, looked towards the door and his brother, Jay, looked frightened.
"Come on! Grab the bowls. Hurry up..." He pushed Mike to get the now empty dishes and they were in a rush to leave the room, but I didn't know why.
"He's gonna kill us if he catches us," Mike was saying and my brothers and I just watched them as the boys left us, disappearing into the house proper.
I didn't now what to think about that, so I didn't think about it at all. I joined my brothers on our bedding, curling up against Bandy, hugging his back to my chest and tummy and putting my left leg over his big soft body as he closed his eyes. Bush moved to smell my excited sex and give me a few slow licks across my swollen lips and then my exposed ass. He finally settled with his head resting on my right thigh. Barley left us, going outside to do what he needed to and I just closed my eyes, wondering at how strange people could be sometimes.
I wasn't sleeping. I was just really comfortable when I heard the boys starting up their motorcycles outside. Barley was barking at them, pleased with himself that he'd driven the strangers away finally, but I didn't think they were leaving just because of him.
The door opened a minute later and Joe was looking in. I smiled at him from behind Bandy. I was still warm inside from flagging the two boys like I had and so I wasn't surprised at myself when I slipped off the bed, moving slowly and being careful not to wake Bush or Bandy. I had wondered vaguely if Joe would want to be our new Master. I liked him well enough and I thought he liked me, although I wasn't too sure how he felt about the other dogs. My brothers tolerated him anyway, so it would be okay if he was, but he didn't seem to have that same sort of presence that our Master had possessed. Joe was more ... I don't know, neutral, or something. Unassertive maybe, which is a pretty big word for me, but probably the right one. He wasn't a real Master.
I moved towards him across the hardwood floor, much as I had for his sons just a short while before and I could tell the big Indian was interested. He'd been a frequent visitor and he'd enjoyed my mouth and cunt many times for my Master's pleasure as well as his own. I approached him closely, so that I could rub my face against the rough denim of his trousers. The man at least understood me well enough to give me the touch I craved. He stroked my head, smoothing my hair from my eyes as I looked up at him, and he was smiling gently.
"Are you okay, Dare?" he asked and I didn't know what to say.
Instead of trying to reply, I lifted myself to my knees and pressed my head against the man's crotch, growling softly as I felt his large cock grown semi-hard under his clothing. He was excited and I turned my face so that there could be no mistaking my willingness as I opened my mouth, biting at the heavy fabric and tugging at the man playfully. He smelled funny, but beneath the odors of machines and oil, I could smell his arousal as well.
"Dare, uh ... Hold on..." He took my head in his large hands, pushing me back gently and I looked up at him expectantly, thinking he would free his cock and want me to suck it for him.
"I liked Jim, your, uh ... Master ... I liked him a lot and you being his wife and all..." he cleared his throat, " ... I think maybe we shouldn't, you know?"
I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, trying to understand what the man was saying. He didn't want to mate with me anymore because my Master had married me? Or because he was gone? Or both? I didn't understand any of it. We couldn't control those things. We couldn't change them, and they didn't really change anything at that moment. My Master had enjoyed seeing me give his friend pleasure, so we could honor him this way. We would remember him that way, as my Master and Joe's friend; we'd share our memories and be comforted in the familiarity of it.
Joe didn't feel the same way though and I don't think he meant to hurt me or anything. He wanted me, but there was some custom perhaps, some human thing which stopped him from doing what he knew to be right. It saddened me more than it should, but only because I was selfish in my loneliness.
"Let's go to the parlor, Dare. We can talk a little, huh?" Joe looked down at me and started to leave the room but I didn't follow him. I wasn't supposed to be in the other parts of the house.
The man tried calling me a couple times but finally got the idea as I just sat there looking at him. Joe disappeared for a minute and then returned with a chair, one of the rough wooden ones he always sat in when he'd come around for a visit. I was happy to see it and Joe carried it into the room, putting it in the usual place and sitting down. I crawled over and tried once again to get him to take me, putting my cheek on his thighs and rubbing my breasts against his legs, but Joe merely stroked my hair and started talking.
"I sent my boys around. I guess you know that, eh? I figured you could use the help and they can use a little money for gas. I was thinking like fifty dollars a week, that's enough for them."
Joe looked at me like I might say something and when I didn't he continued.
"Anyway, uh, well I told them to kind of keep their distance. You know, give you some privacy." He scratched my head lightly and I smiled. "I guess it wouldn't do much good to try and get you into some clothes."
It was fun listening to the man talk. My brothers liked it too, when our Master would speak to them. They understood even less than I, but the words were unimportant. It was the sound of the man's voice, the timbre and pitch and tone that pleased us and made us aware of his mood. If he was pleased or angry or concerned. It was communication on a basic, simple level and it was all we ever needed.
"So, I'll have to get you to sign a check later. I can pick up some things at the store. Do you need anything in particular?" Joe asked and I shrugged. "You know, you're going to have to find someone, or something. I'm ... I'm married, you know?"
I gave him a quizzical look at that just because I'd never really thought about it before. I wasn't sure what difference that made.
"My wife finds out about this..." he laughed and shook his head. "Never mind."
I was pressing my face against his crotch again and Joe was resisting me less now. He wanted me and I was making it plain that I wanted him as well. He was trying very hard to ignore us though.
"The, uh ... The funeral is tomorrow. I took care of it and Jim, well, he was pretty specific about what he wanted. I..." he lifted my chin in his hand, " ... You'll need to dress for that, Dare. There will be some people who don't, uh ... They won't be from the reservation, put it that way. Okay? You understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes," I said finally, sensing that he needed a real answer, even though I didn't really understand at all.
I'd already said goodbye to my Master, when I'd sat with him and licked his fingers, even kissed his cold lips. There was nothing more I could do, or needed to do, but it was a human thing and I reminded myself that I was his wife. It was possible my Master would want me there, although I was certain that his spirit was content already.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Joe asked me after several minutes of silence.
He made to remove his penis and it was awkward for him because he was so hard already. The Indian's cock was a large one, the biggest I'd ever seen on a man and perhaps even longer than Barley's, but not as thick as any of the dogs. I muzzled the heat of Joe's aroused flesh against my face, making soft moan-like growls from deep in my chest. The man's cock was uncircumcised and I used my lips to peel the already stretched foreskin back enough so that I could lick the head. I lapped at his penis like the bitch I was, cleaning the man with my tongue and tasting the wonderful flavors of his body after a long hot day. The salty sweat and acrid stain of piss, and the bland precum spilling out of him now.
Joe held his cock for me, since all I had were paws and he understood that. He held my wild hair back and moved his cock around my mouth and face with his huge soft hands. He'd always enjoyed me with my Master's blessings and I was remembering all those nights when Joe would come to visit and how happy it had made my Master to have a friend he could share me with. I'd never been the sole reason for their friendship either, which was important, I thought. I was just one of the dogs and there were many times when they didn't play with me at all. Other times my Master would chain me to the floor, locking my pelvis to that eye bolt so I could do nothing but kneel over it, and the two men would talk about whatever it is friends do, while my brothers would fuck me for their amusement.
I remembered all of that and more as I worked my mouth and tongue around Joe's swollen cock, getting him so excited that he finally pulled my open mouth to the head, pushing his cock inside so that I would suck him in a way no real bitch could. I didn't mind that so much, but I would have been content to lick the man to orgasm as I'd done several times before. I'd lick him while he stroked his cock, jerking off until he came suddenly, spurting his thick creamy sperm into the air so I could try and catch it with my tongue, smiling and barking happily at that game.
On this night however, Joe wanted me to suck his cock and I did it, enjoying the odd shape of a human penis, so different than a dog's. It was thick and sturdy, and I enjoyed the smooth head as I took him to the entrance of my throat, for which he seemed much too large. But I was well taught by this time and I opened for him easily, feeling the delicate walls of my throat stretching to accommodate the man. It was only slightly uncomfortable, more because I couldn't breathe at all while he was inside me, but Joe's reaction was always my reward. My Master's as well, when he'd watched me taking all of the Indian's huge cock, slapping his thigh and chuckling, teasing me and asking where all that cock was going.
While I sucked Joe, Barley returned and by then I was very ready for mating. My vulva was swollen, so much so that I could feel it like a puffy fever between my thighs. Juices ran cool down my legs and I gave a muffled yelp as I felt Barley's tongue pushing insistently against my sex, working inside my folds to taste my arousal. He licked my pussy wonderfully, making me squirm and suck the man with even greater urgency.
When Barley mounted me I was in heaven and several times I caught myself glancing to my left or right as I'd pull free of Joe's cock for a breath of cool air, expecting to see my Master in his chair, rocking and smiling at me. How many times had he watched me just like that? Sucking his friend while one of my brothers fucked me. I was saddened that my Master wasn't there to see it now, but inside I was relieved as well by the happy knowledge that I'd been able to please the man before he'd died.
Barley fucked me long and hard, forcing my cunt to open once more to the familiar size and shape of his penis. It was good for all of us, especially Joe, I thought, who had been a little reluctant, or shy at first when he'd seen me mate with one of my brothers. It had seemed unnatural maybe, until he'd learned the truth at Table Rock during my Welcoming Ceremony. I'd been Awakened then and the whole tribe had seen me mated with a wolf. They knew now that I wasn't a girl at all, but that I carried the spirit of a dog inside me, the spirit of a great wolven bitch. After that it became much easier for Joe to enjoy seeing me with one of the other dogs.
Barley had just locked up with me finally when Joe groaned with his impending orgasm. He lifted my head forcefully, or as forcefully as the gentle giant could be. I was much used to the demands of my brothers and especially Chance, my mate, and my Master too had never hesitated to handle me roughly when he needed to, but Joe was always so careful. He lifted my head and wanted to see his orgasm shooting into the air, onto my beautiful face, as he called it. He was stroking himself quickly while behind me, Barley was digging his paws into my sides and scratching the hardwood floor as he struggled to find his own orgasm.
Cum shot out of the Indian's cock in fast, heavy spurts that struck my nose and cheeks and chin as I had my mouth closed. It was what Joe wanted, not to see me catch his seed, but to wear it for him, and so I did that and after a few shots of semen against my flushed skin he pulled me close so he could rub his cockhead over my face while it spewed hotly for half a minute more. He was painting me, washing my face with cum until it seemed to cover every part of me and then he lifted my head so that he could see me, glistening and wet and panting now as Barley rocked my whole body violently. His knot was stuck fast inside me and he was cumming now, the rigid length of the dog's cock buried in my cunt and his climax filling me while my brother whined with pleasure.
I licked my lips and then set about cleaning the Indian, washing his cock clean and working to get the pools of semen that had spilled onto his pants and shirt. My body was hot and trembling, inside and out, and Barley had gotten off me finally, waiting patiently now for his knot to shrink once more. I hadn't cum this time, but it was still enjoyable for me. This was what I'd wanted and needed and I felt no betrayal for my Master in doing it. This was another way to remember him and I think Joe realized that, if not for himself, then he understood my feelings at least and that was enough.
The funeral was in Seattle, which seemed a long ways away; farther than I remembered it being. I rode with Joe and his family, sitting between the big Indian and his wife, a woman about my height, which is to say short, but very plump. She was nice to me and she remembered me from the ceremony at Table Rock, although I had no memory of her. She'd brought a dress for me and it was very uncomfortable, but not for any real reason. It was a nice enough dress, but I hadn't worn clothes in two years and the cotton felt itchy and a little claustrophobic to me. It was black and covered most of my body. The shoes hurt my feet too and I found it difficult to walk. When she'd tried to remove my collar I'd shaken my head and backed away. It wasn't hers to remove, and only mine to wear.
I enjoyed the ride though, my first since my Master had brought me home, and I wished I was sitting in the back of the truck with Joe's two sons, or at least next to the window. I could smell so many things, different scents from the world passing by, and it was all I could do to keep from leaning across the woman and sticking my head out the window. I'd never experienced anything like it, as if it were a carnival for my senses. My skin prickled and my tummy knotted and my ears twitched at the sound of rushing air. I wanted to touch myself because it was very much like an orgasm at times, but I just swallowed hard and closed my eyes, trying to remain still.
The funeral itself meant very little to me. There was a lot of sitting, some standing, and a lot of talking. There were many people there, a great many people whom I didn't know, and it surprised me as my Master had lived a quiet life so far as I knew. His only regular visitor had been Joe. Now I was finding that my owner and husband had known a lot of people and they'd all come to say goodbye to him. It made me feel very good, much better than I would have expected, and I was happy and smiling because of it. That wasn't what those people expected from me and I could sense their puzzlement, but if this ceremony wasn't intended to make us feel good, then what was the point? I was very proud of my Master.
Most of the people spoke to me, telling me they were sorry or asking me if I was okay, and most often telling me they hadn't known that Jim was married. I had nothing to say to any of those things, but I nodded a lot and said thank you and tried very hard to remember how I'd been a person for my first nineteen years. It shouldn't have been difficult to pretend I was a girl for just a short afternoon, but it was. Thankfully Joe and his wife and even his sons remained close to me and so I felt somewhat safe, but it was very confusing to me as well. I hadn't expected a reception after.
There was food in a silver buffet and I was hungry, but it didn't smell very good and so I had a glass of water.
"Hello, Mrs. Brocken. I'm Cal Goldman," a man said quietly, sitting down near me. "I'm your husband's accountant, or yours now, I should say. I'm really very sorry for your loss. Jim was a good man."
"Yes," I said. "Thank you."
"Jim made certain arrangements. He didn't expect that you'd have much interest in finances, so..." He talked for awhile and all I really understood was that bills went to this man and he paid them.
Joe talked to the man more than I did and I was sure that if I needed to know anything the Indian would tell me. I was getting rather weary of money and how much I had or didn't have, and how it was being saved or spent. I'd never had a credit card or even a checking account. I'd had a piggy bank as a girl and a savings account someplace, but I couldn't remember what bank it was in and I'd never used it anyway. To listen to these people it seemed as if there was nothing else in the world so important as money and I was saddened by it.
"You seem to be taking it well," a man was saying to me and he had my Master's eyes and I looked into them carefully.
I shrugged, not knowing what he meant by that, but I didn't like his voice. It made the hair on my neck stiffen and I suppressed the growl that rose unbidden from my throat. He had a smell, cloying and bitter-sweet like blackberries grown overly ripe and bursting on the bush.
"Taking all of it too, eh?" He smiled thinly and a woman was with him, and they were both in their thirties, or early forties perhaps, but no older than that.
"Leave her alone, John," the woman said, sounding bored.
"He was my dad and I didn't even know he was married." The man looked me up and down. "I guess I can see why he liked you though. Do you speak English?"
I just looked at him. Many people were looking at him.
"I bet you speak fucky-sucky just fine, huh?" He was trying to embarrass me, I realized, and I felt sorry for him. Except for his hazel eyes, he was very much not like his father.
"Dare, come on..." Joe was taking my hand. He'd been eating when this man had come over to speak with me.
"He's buried next to his wife," the man said loudly. "The one who loved him. How does that feel?"
"Dare, he's just angry. Come on..." Joe tugged my arm but I ignored him.
"He loved her," I said softly, the words coming slowly. "His spirit needs her now."
"Right," the man sneered. "His spirit."
"Yes," I agreed, speaking slowly and picking my words carefully. "He was forgiven a long time ago."
"Not by me," the man shook his head.
"Forgiven for what?" the woman asked me and she was the wife of my Master's son.
I shrugged because it was clear to me they didn't know my Master. Not the woman nor her husband and I wondered how he could be the son of the man I'd loved. There had been a lot of pain in their lives, I thought, much more than my Master had ever expressed to me. I hadn't known he'd had a son, just as John hadn't known of me. I was forty years younger than his father, beautiful and foreign in my appearance, and I must have seemed out of place in the world John had imagined his father lived in. He didn't know his father at all and again I was struck by how the only misery I found came from the living.
Joe led me away and I met other people as well and learned that the man, John, was from a very short first marriage. My Master had supported the boy and his mother for many years, but they'd never been close. John had come to the funeral just to see the man that he'd never known. Now my Master was going to be buried next to his second wife, the one that had died, and it made people wonder about me. They didn't understand why I wasn't crying. Why I was so young. Why I was wearing a dog collar. They wondered why I wasn't like them and I asked Joe to take me home.
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