Three Dog Night

Author's notes:

This is a sequel to the story "Three Dog Night". It can be read separately, but would be best read after that story.

It is a non-human story, with elements of non-consent, fantasy, and hardcore sex. Please feel free to skip it if these are not your cup of tea.

Please

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read this if you are under 18, are not allowed to read it in your area or find it offensive.

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send feedback and comments, they are greatly appreciated

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Special thanks to AnotherWannabe and Sexnovella for their excellent feedback. All mistakes are the author's however.

The Lonely Sheppardess (Three Dog Night Ch. 2)

The young woman looked at the strange, tall man as he finished drinking. They had been chatting and flirting heavily during each meal. But she felt the tone was a little different this time, so her entire body was on razor's edge.

The huntsman suddenly stood up from their meal, and with a single stroke of this broad, sun-leathered arm pulled the young widow close to him. She was shorter than him, her hair a shocking red, her blue eyes flashing. Their lips meet in intense embrace. She had been yearning for a night like this for years. She longed for a man's touch again, the powerful sweep of iron arms, and the heat of a body to warm her against the bitter cold of the high hills.

The shepherdess, still only 28, let her curls cover her pale, freckled shoulders. She wore a short blue peasants dress, slightly worn in a couple place, but was patched smartly. It hugged the curve of her hip, and the swell of her best.

With a motion, she dropped her simple dress to the earthen floor. She had worn nothing underneath.

She strained on her tiptoes to scale his towering frame, using his shoulders to pull herself up. She felt his hand on one of her breasts, large enough to cover most of her modestly sized bosom. She snaked an urgent tongue inside his mouth, smiling at the rough stubble on his chin.

Her loins ached, she had wanted him more each day he had been at her farm, and each night she had fingered herself to sleep half dreaming of his calloused touch.

"Let me taste you" she half whispered urgently, unable to contain her lust any longer...

"We will taste each other," William tersely replied. With a single powerful sweep of his arm, he hooked his hand around her naked hip, lifting and turning her upside down in the same motion. The young widow could neither believe she had inspired such passion nor how strong the hunter was. The naked woman spread her smooth legs -- one knee on each of his shoulders -- to allow his hot breath and tongue access to her sopping womanhood. Her long red hair, falling straight from her head, reached down to his boots.

As William stood burying his face into the pussy of the woman he was holding upside down, eager fingers worked open the laces of his pants, pulling out his now hardening member.

She paused for a second, startled at his size. He was so much larger than her late husband. He was also larger than the young guardsman she had slept with in the spring. She was unsure if she could even fit him in her mouth. But her lust for him was driving her crazy, and stretching wide, she engulfed the broad tip with her lips. Her hot tongue tasted the salt sting of his pre-cum.

Bathed in the light of the lamps and hearth fire, he stood lapping her helpless pussy, pushing her over a wave of mounting bliss. She was almost too overcome with the pleasure he was giving her, as well as the intoxicating rush of blood to her head, to properly service his need.

But she was intent on showing him the extent of her longing for him, and steeled herself to her task. Bracing her hands on his still clothed knees, she forced her face down on his shaking cock, lines of saliva trailing down his legs. She came off for a breath and then eagerly engulfed again as much as she could. Again and again she repeated this, each time trying to force him just a fraction deeper into her throat.

But his tongue was expert. She pulled her mouth from the huge cock, and shouted her ecstasy loudly, unable to restrain herself. She had never orgasmed so powerfully before.

With a push of his arm he flung the remnants of their meal off the uneven planks of her sturdy peasant's table. His empty beer stein joined the last of the mutton stew on the floor.

Then he laid her on the table, pressing her back against the wood. As he moved behind her he pushed her knees apart with calloused hands. Before he entered his prize, he first laid his iron hard penis on her stomach, her legs now on either side of him. She gasped, as it snaked over milk pale skin of stomach. It reached past her navel. She was afraid: even in her lust, could she take such a length inside her?

"William, please, I beg you, be gentle with me." The young widow asked with her voice genuinely alarmed.

"Quiet woman! You are as wet as a ripe peach; the scabbard will bend to the sword in time. And with that, William slowly slid his broad cockhead into her, parting her cunt-lips.

***

They fucked for hours, first on the table, then on her bed loft. By the morning she had cum four times, and he twice, spilling his seed onto her flat stomach. With each hour, he fucked her much harder, slating his manly need deep inside her, As the light of the dawn sun spilled into the window, they laid together in her bed. She was completely content, lying in his arms, her head on his broad shoulder.

"Petra, it is dawn now, and I will leave this morning to return to north. I know there is no Werewolf here, nor was there one in the spring. I have been here already 7 days, past the whole full moon-cycle. In all that time, neither I nor my trackers saw any sign of wolves, recent or old. They themselves have the Wolfs Blood in them, and they would not miss signs being here this long. I know now why there was no sign, and the village guard saw no signed the times before."

The redhead started to speak, tears of shame and desperation swelling in her eyes.

"You have been here, in this lonely far crag, so high in the hills, loyally tending your husband's flock and farm. It must have been very lonely for you. You thought maybe to catch the attention of a young soldier posted here to catch the beast. They would be posted for week, it is cold and lonely here for a soldier too, and your bed inviting."

"But it was wrong and it was foolish. While I waited here, lives may have been lost elsewhere to real threats. William said, putting on his tunic,

"I will return the village's money. There is no honor if I keep it. And I must tell them of your lies."

"There will be no other hunter hired, nor young soldier posted here, to fall for a sheppardess warm embrace. "

**

It was almost year later, and the doors of the small farmhouse on the high crag of the hill were barred shut. A roaring fire lit inside. The eerie light of the full moon bathed the entire hill. Except for the goats penned nearby, there was not a soul around for miles.

Inside, Petra sat in a corner, shivering. She was desperately clutching to her deceased husband's hunting musket.

She rocked back and forth muttering to herself, "How could I have been so stupid?" Twice this week before she had walked the long path into town, and begged the mayor, the captain of the guard, even the inns keep to send someone to protect her farm."

But no one believed her stories this time. No one believed that this time the Werewolf's howl she had heard at night was quite real. They did not even come to check the newly laid paw print in the mud by her house, to see that it was quite real and far too large to be a normal wolf's.

They had laughed at her, and ignored her pleas.

The fat inns keep said "Let me save a trip to the hills and just bed you here Petra. Don't need to invent no story about any wolf man if you just want a good hard fucking."

And now she was alone, just her and her goats, her only livelihood.

The night had fallen. Then a voice came from the darkness outside her house, a voice that chilled her to her bone. "No one is coming to help you, poor little goat herder. It is just me and you, now open the door. "

It was a voice of pure malice, not human, but low and laced with anger. First it came from the front, then in an instant the back of her hut, shattering the thick boards barring it.

Then suddenly the door burst open, and a giant form burst in, covered in dark gray fur, half upright, but scampering all fours.

Petra tried to swing her musket around as he bounded through the door. Her heart raced wildly. She fired, but missed wildly in her panic.

With a single leap, the man-beast was on her, slinging her gun aside and jerking her to her feet. With a sudden savage yank, he ripped her dress in half, and another yank her dress was in tatters, and her body exposed, her breasts flopping. The beast pushed her towards her bed.

She saw his strange partly human penis swelling, and shouted "No, please no! Take my herd, take anything but please not that."

The creature only laughed. "Oh, I will take what I want, and I will take it many times from you. Poor Petra, who told one too many lies about Werewolves and whom no one believed when one finally did come," said the creature as it threw her roughly onto the bed, face first and on her knees. A powerful hand grabbed her buttocks, and she was frozen in fear. The creature snapped his jaws lustily on her shoulder, the love bite not deep but she felt the trickle of blood on her back.

Petra looked behind her to see the monster rising up, his angry member pointed straight at her helpless pussy, streams of slobber hanging from his long mouth-muzzle. She screamed again.

Then a pair of woman's hands grabbed the Wolf beast's massive left arm from the darkness behind. Then another pair of pale female hand grabbed his other arm. And another pair as suddenly around his fur covered neck.

And with a sudden forceful yank, the Wolf-man was being pulled backwards, out her shatter door, his mighty claws frantically scrapping and digging into the wood of her door frame to save himself from being pulled outside. Petra still could not see who was behind him pulling him from her battered cottage.

There was nothing but the darkness outside. Darkness and the sounds of unholy bedlam, high but guttural howls, mixed with half human curses. They were close at first then quickly moved farther and farther away.

Petra suddenly saw a completely naked woman enter, her eyes flashing, almost glowing blue. She was young, and had a strange leather collar around her neck.

She stood and stared at Petra as she sobbed naked in the bed, staring perhaps in pity, perhaps in disgust. Then as silently and quickly as she had come, she left. William the Hunter from was standing in the doorway. A year had past, and he had a beard and large scar now sliced across his forehead.

William turned to her. "You are a foolish woman. I delayed days coming back, because of your deceit before. But came back I did."

And he pulled out a collar, the collar which would keep her from turning completely at the next moon, The collar which would keep her much of her human side, not allowing the wolf to fully emerge.

The same collar all the women in William's hunting pack wore.