Author's Note: This story contains a virgin witch, human to beast transformation, breeding, and more. There is a slight Non-Consent aspect to the beginning of the story, but this is not a rape fantasy. All characters are 18+, and none were harmed in the writing of this piece. This story was written recently and is indicative of my current writing mood, so I hope you enjoy. ©WednesdaysCoffin2020. This story cannot be transferred to any other site besides Literotica.com without prior authorization in writing from the author.
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How had a simple morning jog turned into this? Her nails were full of dirt and detritus, her short auburn locks decorated with a bouquet of dead leaves. Dirt was smudged across her tanned skin, particularly on the tip of her button nose. She was wearing the signs that every single, agonizing step of the journey she had screamed for assistance as she clawed the ground and tried to staunch their ability to drag her across the invisible boundary. She had even attempted to call upon her magic and the coven's reserves, but one of the wolves had immediately uttered an ancient dialect that rendered her helpless. Now she was forced to accept her inevitable fate, as there was an unspoken understanding among her coven: one sister-witch was not worth risking the entire congregation. If she was brought across the line into the werewolves' territory, no one would come for her.
And so she had fought tooth and nail against the two towering wolves as they dragged her slowly toward their pack's lands and away from her freedom. The first of the males, the one who claimed to be the elder brother, was nearly seven feet of stocky muscle and sun-kissed flesh. A brunette with scruffy, wild hair that hit just below his ears, he possessed a long, bearded face with slight flecks of gray amidst the coarse facial bristles—just enough to make him appear distinguished rather than old. He was the one that was currently holding her over his monstrous shoulder, carrying her like a flimsy doll through the dying, autumn landscape as she uselessly tried to fight her way out of his vile clutches.
Walking behind them, the younger wolf was smirking cruelly. Also quite tall at over six feet, this male was toned but lean and pale. His long, angular face was highlighted by a jaw that was chiseled from the finest marble and a pair of hauntingly brilliant chocolate irises, all framed by straight raven locks that flowed down to his wide shoulders. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and scattered softly down toward his pale lips, which formed a perfect cupid's bow. Full of a perverse playfulness, he had been the first one to grab her, making certain to fondle her breasts as he carried her through the woods towards the boundary between the sisterhood's lands and those of their mortal enemies.
No one who crossed the border ever returned, and so the legend that a sister-witch could feel the geographic line in her bones was just that—a legend. But Ruby was certain that the frozen shiver that traveled up her spine in that moment was just this, and that she had just been forced beyond the point of no return. Covered in earthen dust and copious scratches, several of her nails already broken and bleeding, she sobbed as the elder wolf approached a small clearing and carelessly dropped her without warning.
Her petite body hit the ground with an impactful thud and she cringed as her back and buttocks absorbed the bulk of her fall. Terrified, she watched as the two wolves towering above her began to hastily remove their clothing without offering a word. But before she could think to speak, the raven-haired male squatted down beside her. Without a word, he reached out and waved his hand through the air as though a magician displaying his talents. Her eyes widened in horror as his pointer finger shifted fluidly into a gigantic claw and a cruel smile painted across his handsome face. Heat danced in his chocolate irises as he used his new talon to slice through her black shorts and blue sports bra before he quickly tore the scraps of fabric from her body then violently tugged her sneakers off her feet.
At this, the now very exposed, bearded wolf cleared his throat and his deep bass ebbed across her flesh like a comforting summer breeze. "I'm sorry that you appear to be so terrified, little human. However, please know that we mean you no harm. We are simply here to welcome you into the pack and your new life. You will be treated like a goddess among our people," he offered as his voice trailed off.
Kneeling at her feet, the second wolf was sniffing the air above the apex of her thighs and practically drooling. In a soothing baritone, he observed, "She smells of homemade desserts and something else—something magical. Perhaps Alyssum? Underneath it all, I can smell her fertility is at its peak." His hand floated above her abdomen and the mysterious claw melted back into his flesh. "She is ready to be mated."
"She must survive the transformation first," the graying male demanded in a stern tone. "Do not forget that until she is a wolf, she cannot carry your litter. As you very well know, impregnating a human witch will only lead to a horrifically tragic death. You must control yourself until she is one of us, little brother—only then can she survive the mating and birth a litter. "
This seemed to sadden the other wolf, and he bowed his head as thunderous storms passed through his passionate eyes. "I do not forget her." His voice had grown soft with a sorrowful reminiscence. "Nor do I forget the younglings that were lost along with her. You do not have to remind me of the tragedy, brother. My heart still breaks for the loss of the fine she as well as the litter. She would have been a fine mate."
Face stony, the brunette man gestured with his chin toward Ruby, and her heartbeat began to race in fear. "Bite her then. Let us see if the witch's perfect human physique is strong enough to survive its first change."