Wolves of Weirdward Woods

Ffion wondered how far they had gone. Her hands and knees ached. Her neck itched. A sense of irritation and pleasure mixed in an unruly brawl, like two snakes coiling, trying to strangle each other. Malcolm led the trio, walking with unneeded haste and urgency. He held two vines, one tied to Ffion's neck, to the other around Royce's. The knight forced them to crawl on all fours, like the dogs they were. Even after their time together, he went back to the distributor of discipline. Unsatisfied with the encounter, he still tried to teach them lessons Ffion did not yet understand.

Hours passed of their unusual hike. Malcolm would stop to discipline them if they went too slow, caning their behinds or tugging on the makeshift leash. The pleasure from the sex had long dissipated, and now Ffion was more a hostage than a partner. Her mind immediately went to mutiny. As thrilling as it felt to be locked in the jars of two wolves, the heart still yearned for the hunt. To put a blade to this rogue knight's neck sent a pulse of sheer pleasure, even if she'd be killed by the fox straight after. To put that clean crusader down in the mud, to be like prey kicking and screaming until it's taken and dominated, Ffion could think of nothing more tantalizing. Maybe the glint of twisted hope bewitched the Titanium knight already. Every time he glanced down at her he wore a tired sneer. Meanwhile, she kept a smug smile, slowing down, making him yank on her leash over and over, running his patience dry. It was far more entertaining than what her fellow captive did. Obedient until the end, Royce did not lift his eyes from the ground. Head hung low in shame, or something like that. After enduring hours of him moping in silence, Ffion began missing the true fox more and more. She wondered if another wrestling match would bring the monster back, and then invite Malcolm to discipline them both again. Ffion bit her lip. The thought could ruin her for days.

"Here we are," Malcolm muttered, stopping just short of a stretch of woodlands that looked no more impressive than the last several miles. Tall pines covered the expanse of hills and dead leaves. Lichen-covered boulders loomed over Ffion as she tried to gauge if the Titanium Knight was even capable of cracking a joke. Then her blood ran cold. She smelt them before she saw them. The heavy musk of grit and sweat, like walking into a gym locker room; all that mixed with an earthen scent of blood.

Three beasts emerged from the shadows, rising from the brush and high grasses to greet Malcolm. A pure white wolf leered from afar, eyes a vicious blue. The weight of initial judgment crushed Ffion, sending a wicked shiver down her spine that sent her crashing down to the ground, forced by her nerves to grovel on her stomach with her ass raised in submission.

"Untie Royce, now Iva," the white wolf said, stern and with thunder buried in every word. Her voice roared without the snout cracking open. The message was delivered right to the mind. "And who is this, welp of a girl? You made yourself master over her?"

"Not yet in any official capacity, but I outrank her in both the laws of the food chain and the mandates of the society she serves. She knows of the Titanium Knights, albeit vaguely, and more importantly, she knows of their reputation on the battlefield. Her fealty is more than assured."

Ffion tried to speak, to move, to at least shoot the knight a nasty look. Instead, she was paralyzed by the aura of the monsters lording over her. She was their's now, without any hope of escape.

"What are your intentions with her, if she cannot run with the pack, then she is doomed to fall behind and die to any of the pilferers or bottom feeders in these woods. We do not keep slaves nor concubines, you either have your hunt or let her go, Iva."

"I have a different idea," Malcolm said. "Look at your numbers, dwindled to so few. She could help us fix this problem, mistress. This woman stayed undetected by all of us, even me. Only Royce could have found her, his senses are beyond the best. She has issues, I did not force her in this state, she was in such undress already. Maybe she's perplexing to me, but I know your casualness around the subject, so maybe she'd fit in better than one initially expects."

"You want to breed her? Have her join our pack as a broodmare?"

"I remember your dreams, Briar. I remembered what your generation died for."

"Silence Iva, I know we wanted a world of wolves, but it's not possible."

"I know a way."

"How?"

"She is the first step, the rest with due time, let me promise you that."

"Then you will put her through the hunt?"

"I have less confidence she will impress us there, but she will not be like the last candidate."

Malcolm knelt and lifted Ffion's chin. He inspected her closely, tracing her scars with his thumb and squeezing her arms and legs, judging the muscle. He pulled on her lips and checked her teeth. Gently, he gestured for Ffion to rise to her feet, and with all the wolves watching her Malcolm cupped her breasts and rubbed the nipple. Without warning he pressed his hands flat against her womb. Then his touch migrated south. Ffion bit her lip, eyeing him, wanting him to go further. Ffion pushed herself off balance, forcing her body to lean against Malcolm's.

"Back to your position, I gave you no permission to move."

"Make me, master. I heard what you said, I'm your breeding stock, your prey, but you'll have to earn me. A man as strong as you don't get what he wants all the time, you'll have to take me in your jaws, hunter."

"You want this?" Malcolm looked almost disgusted.

Ffion wanted it ravenously. The prey instincts within her had taken over. The leash around her neck felt more and more right. The wolves surrounded her, the wild already devouring the domestication within her. "I know your kind, Titanium Knight. I've had people like you look down on me all my life, you rich spoiled scarecrow of a man. You could kill me ten times over before I'd even know it. But I'd let you ravage me again and again, because one day that look in your eyes is going to break, and you will melt as much as I am now. And your lust for me will have nothing else holding it back." Ffion's eyes darted between both Malcolm and Royce, the titan of a man and the feral king locked in the flesh of a gentle heart. "I'll be yours," Ffion turned to the whole pack, the leader especially. "Make me yours in every way you can."

"You could not handle us," one of the wolves said, her fur a fierce black, and eyes as red as blood. Bones crunched and shifted. A woman crawled out of the storm of midnight hair. Her features matched her four-legged form, even the lean muscle, and the coverings. Wearing absolutely nothing she approached Ffion. She had a rich smell to her, one that sent Ffion's heart rattling. It reminded her of her time in the army, snuggling up against her bunkmate, smelling the dirty fatigues and the lingering taste of river water. The nude woman paced around Ffion inspecting her. No shoes, no pants, nothing. They lived entirely wild out here. Ffion could see that best in how overgrown the woman was. Her bush had stretched down her thighs and up to her bellybutton. Her legs and arms were carpeted too. Even the small dainty nipples were unmaintained. Standing face to face, this wolf was shorter than Ffion too, but a few crucial inches. Even then though, Ffion shrank in her presence.

"We would snap you like a twig, girl." She said.

"She'd get the gift, assumably." Royce chirped up. Malcolm turned and planted a harsh slap against his ass.

"I did not give you permission to speak, Royce."

"She said she was the pack's, not just yours," the woman grinned. "We should see if she likes to go as rough as us because we invest everything in her. What if she just doesn't have the spirit?"

Briar stared down at them, with a deep warm breath, she tilted her head. The giant white wolf shrank down to an older woman. The years had treated her well, her skin untouched by time aside from from crow's feet accenting her eyes. Her white hair stretched out behind her, long locks that were perhaps never cut once. Briar wore a strange smile and brigth red cheeks. She sat with her legs spread, hand already in position on her womanhood. "I want to see her tested as well."

The other wolf, a golden juggernaut of a creature, peeled away his animal form to reveal a tall bulky man with blonde locks falling down to his back. His member dangling between his legs uncarryingly, but his size definitely caught Ffion's attention. All were nude except Malcolm Iva, who crossed his arms and looked on with only evaluation of his intentions.

"Back away, Cade, this is my girl." The black-haired woman teased her hands around Ffion's waist. Her red eyes seemed to shimmer and spark as if a fire was about to ignite inside them.

"Have her, Marley, she's not my kind of woman."

"Are you ready," Marley sighed, "you're so stunning, so brave. Look at you, as proud to be here as I am. You'll be a wonderful mate to us all."

"Are you here for the same purpose?" Ffion asked.

"I'm here because we are a free people, able to love whoever we wish. Once you have the gift, you'll see. I'll bring in plenty of pups who will share the vision we have now. I'm just far pickier on whose seed I carry." Marley winked and rested her hands on Ffion's shoulders. With gentle guidance, Marley pushed Ffion to her knees. Curling her fingers around Ffion's dirty tangled hair, she pressed the hunter's face against the thick black bush between her legs. "I was born a part of the pack, not made. I know the stakes of our people and how few we have left. But for me to share? You have to be someone I really really like."

Ffion knew her place long before Marley had ordered her there. Her tongue ventured between the werewolf's slit, greeting it hungrily. She fought to get her face in as deep as she could, as if this was the sweetest fruit imaginable, and Ffion only had one chance to experience every taste it had to offer. The thick mound brushed against her face, filling her nose with a wave of unwashed musk that she happily drowned in. A freak for Marley's wetness, Ffion nearly forgot to breathe. Her warm exhale tickled against Marley's pussy. This was a secret warning. Ffion went for the kill, her tongue attacking the clit like a barrage of arrows falling upon one unlucky soldier. With the appetite of a piranha, her tongue tortured Marley's clit. Ffion knew all exactly how to play and exactly how to pleasure. It was like she knew this pussy intimately. However, this would not help her for long.

Marley stood as quiet as she could. Fists clenched, eyes closed, face flushed red, the werewolf kept her lips pursed, trying to stop the whimpers and moans from spilling from her mouth. Every time she opened her mouth to mutter like soft "fucks" and panting like a worn-out dog, her heels would tap in place as she tried to keep herself contained. To all the spectators, it was clear she wanted to last much longer. Marley failed with an embarrassing yelp. Her red eyes shot open, pupils dilated. Teeth sharpened to fine points. Her body hair thickened. The jungle Ffion had her face buried in transformed into a wealth of fur. Even then, with Marley's personal smell of overflowing sweat and cum intoxicating Ffion with a new flavor of lust, she kept her focus on the clit, loyal to the service of it no matter what. Marley kept her hand in place, encouraging Ffion's enthusiasm with a surprisingly kind caress of her lover's hair. Even as the knuckles swelled, the fingers grew and sprouted long razor-like claws, she kept her hand there, letting Ffion know how much it meant to have someone stay throughout the transformation.

"I can't take it much more," Marley growled. "She's too much!" Her whimpers turned to snarls as her snout burst out. The new nose immediately captured the same smell that obsessed Ffion. Fangs twisted into a wild smile. Her ears popped out, perked up, and listened to Ffion's soft labored breaths as she did her job wonderfully. Red eyes, still beautiful, still burning, gazed down at her lover, hungry, wanting this woman in every way imaginable, all at once, forever.

Ffion did not move from her ordered spot between Marley's legs, even she felt the werewolf's claws slithered over the delicate parts of her neck. If Marley wanted to, she could kill her without any real effort. Her new form was marvelous. Still barely over five foot, two, the monster was the intersection between Marley's wolf and human form. Black fur covered her completely, even down to a shaggy tail between her legs. No matter what Marley did, she couldn't stop herself from wagging, the thrill she felt all over was too much.

"Briar!" Malcolm called out, trying to keep the leader focused. With her fingers deep inside her sheath, Briar was inconsolable as well. Royce sat patiently at Malcolm's side, member fully erect and leaking, but obedience took precedence over arousal in this instance. Cade, the blonde werewolf, was stroking his cock, rubbing his thumb around the tip, knowing the show had only just begun.

Marley's snout protruded from her face only an inch or two. Her nose was like a little button, inspiring a far more different emotion than fear. Yet, her red eyes seared through Briar went the two met glances.

"Fuck it," Briar gasped, cumming in between words. "Start the hunt, I can't wait anymore. The curse, it has its weight."

"No, she's mine. Not yours, not Marley's, I tamed her first." Malcolm rolled up the sleeves of his pristine button-up. A hundred interlaced tattoos infested his wrist to his elbow, a menagerie of greens, reds, blacks, and over a thousand other colors. The man, in another additional way, was a living art piece. He walked up and pushed Maley away, letting the werewolf fall to her knees. Ffion stayed in her servicing position, dutiful and ready to continue. Secretly. Her heart was pounding, unsure whether to run, fight, or submit. She was so close to cumming, just from being a tool for Marley's transformation.

Briar rose. White fur bristled across her skin. Her face twisted into a hungry smile. "Whoever hunts her, becomes her mate. That is the ruling of your Alpha, your Goddess."

"You have them, but you are no god of mine," Malcolm grabbed Ffion by the waist and hoisted her into his arms. Carrying the dirty naked woman, he scoffed. "This is what happens when bounty hunters involve themselves in jobs outside their level of expertise."

"I thought I was qualified enough for Royce and Marley. It's you that can't be satisfied," Ffion winked at the knight carrying her like a princess. "How may I please you now, Master?"