Wotans Hounds Ch 03

Thanks again to my editor sdbnnc for all her help with this story. Hope you all enjoy it.

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The army had provided a jeep for the trip across the Pennines. Odin, his bodyguards, Bran and Gelert, and the witch Carla had all travelled by paw or hoof over the mountains in a few hours, but then they hadn't had any luggage other than Carla's bag. It turned out the witch was a shape-shifter; she could change into a horse or a hawk. I still hadn't figured out what was going on between her and Odin. There was a ripple that passed through the air whenever she disagreed with something he said or did, and I could feel his annoyance with Carla growing all the time.

It was hard saying good-bye to everything I'd ever known. I'd spent my whole life at the camp, grown up with the people there, and now I was leaving it all behind. The camp was going to be closed down now that my brothers and I were all leaving and Mum was going to stay with Major Williams at his new post in Germany. Although Mum had missed Odin terribly, once she saw him again and realized how he'd changed from the young idealistic hound she'd known to the aloof cold clan leader he now was, she elected to stick with the man who'd kept her safe and helped raise her family.

It took us a week to get ready to leave. Between packing, Tony and I had been studying with Odin and the witch, learning about the clan history and what the changing process needed in order to work. As Carla explained, Tony first had to determine his totem, his animal spirit, before she could decide what spells were needed to bring it forwards. To do this, Tony had to learn how to meditate before travelling to the wilds of Scotland to see a specialist warlock who could help. The trip would take five days: one to get up there, three for the consultation, and one to drive home.

In the meantime, I was learning about my family's past. The first weres had been born in the Scandinavian wastes during the dark months of the year at the top of the world. They had been fearsome hunters, going out to bring food in for the humans with whom they lived. Once it was a source of pride for a village to have a were living there -- it meant the villagers never went hungry. The weres were chosen from the humans, and only the best and bravest men and women were picked. Then one day, a psychopath, a stranger to the town, convinced the warlocks he was worthy of the change. The man's totem was the wolf, a strong spirit, and the warlocks all thought he would be a good addition to the village. Something went wrong though; once the beast within the man was called forth, the man lost the last of his control, and went on a killing spree before fleeing the village and making his way south into Europe through Germany. The secret of the weres had been kept for decades, now this out of control were threatened it all, so the Norsemen began hunting him down. They travelled from the frozen mountains all over the continent, moving through villages and towns searching for the wolf. What they couldn't know was that the new wolf had memorised the spells and herbs needed to bring about the change, and had been recruiting new members to his pack.

He would go into a town as a man, and live with the people there for a few weeks, finding out if there was anyone there who would suit his purpose. He sought out the weak, the criminals, the outsiders and gave them a way of life as members of his clan. It was the first time a group of weres had lived and hunted as a pack; before they lived in ones or twos, hunting for humans as well as for themselves. This new clan threw aside all the old ways, hunting humans for sport, and giving rise to the myths and legends that still are told today.

"So what happened?" I asked. I was hooked by the adventure of it all. "Did they catch him?"

"Eventually," Odin replied. "But it took them many years and they never got rid of the whole clan. By the time they had hunted and killed the original were-wolf, his clan had split into a hundred different packs. Their descendants are still out there today; mostly they keep to themselves, they know how they came into existence, and feel some shame for it. However there are others who are proud of their heritage, and they can still cause trouble. We call them Loki wolves, and we do not associate ourselves with them unless it is absolutely necessary."

"If they're Loki wolves, then what are we? What do they call us?" I asked.

"We are weres. If they call us anything it is Wotan hounds, rather than wolves. We have many forms other than wolves," Odin replied.

"And are a clan and a pack the same thing?" I inquired.

"No, the clan is the whole family of weres, including members by marriage," Odin responded. "The pack is a smaller group, and is usually only blood relations. Therefore, your brothers and mother are members of your pack, as am I. Bran and Gelert are members of the clan, through marriage of their mother to one of my younger brothers. Clear?"

"Yes," I said. "What about Tony? He won't have either a clan or a pack, will he?"

"Yes, he will become a member of our clan," Odin replied. "But, no, he will not have a pack of his own until he fathers a litter."

"Do I have any other brothers or sisters?" I asked.

"You do," Odin replied, pride in his voice, "nineteen in all, ranging from fifteen years to six months in ages."

"Your wife must be run off her feet!" I exclaimed in wonder.

"Wives, daughter -- not wife," Odin said. "I have three in all these days, not counting your own mother."

"I thought wolves only mated with one other and that was for life," I said.

"Ahh, but we are not wolves," Odin replied. "We are hounds, very different animals indeed. I am rich, and I am very sought after for marriage, as will you and your brothers be."

"I don't know if I could have more than one husband," I said with a little smile.

"We live for a very long time, daughter," Odin said. "Can you imagine the tedium of living with the same person for centuries? It is clan law that you may pick a new partner whenever you wish, so long as that person is not already married to another. I know of households that have six adults living together, and they are the norm. Some females can have up to five pups in a litter, so our clan is very large."

"And they all live in Northumberland?" I asked.

"No, we have packs living in South Yorkshire and Cheshire, all the way up to Edinburgh," Odin explained. "There are four major clans in Britain; it is not really big enough for many more. Above us in Scotland, there are is Fidach and Caitt, two brothers who run the clan there, and who can trace their pedigree back to the time of the Picts, before the Romans or the Norsemen ever set foot on this island. In Wales, the clan is led by Cybi, who is great-uncle to Bran and Gelert. Below us is the biggest clan, Saxons; Alda and Leofric have run that for over two hundred years, with the occasional mistake it has to be said."

"How so?" I inquired.

"Who do you think the Beast of Bodmin Moor is?" Odin asked with a sad smile. "Alda's oldest daughter likes to run free."

"So they're not hounds like us?" I asked.

"No, as I said before, we have many different shapes and forms," Odin explained. "The Saxons have the most variety; I believe they even have a family of horses living within their boundaries. Horses are a very rare change to have, and are mostly found in Southern Ireland and over in America. They have herds, rather than packs."

"So is that why we have to go up to Scotland to help Tony change?" I wanted to know. "Coz that's where the oldest clan is?"

"Very good, yes," Odin smiled at me in approval. "They have a warlock there who is said to be over seven hundred years old, which is old even by our standards. He learnt his skill from one who lived when the Romans were hunting in the great forests, and he learnt from the man who first discovered the key to the change. If anyone can bring forward Captain James's beast, it is he. That is enough for today. We have a long journey ahead of us all tomorrow, and I think you had best get some rest. Good night, daughter."

Odin rose and kissed the top of my head as he had for the past week. I hadn't realised it had gotten so late; looking up at the clock in the corner of the room I could see it was half past eleven, and we had to be up and on the road by nine the next day. I wandered along to my room, and found Tony sprawled out across the pillows of my lair sound asleep. I could see from the odd bits of him that stuck out from under the fur he'd thrown over himself that he was naked and the thought of sneaking in beside him while he slept was so nice that I didn't pause to question it.

I wiggled out of my clothes, and carefully lifted the deerskin to slide myself under it. Once I was there, it occurred to me I had an unparalleled opportunity to really look at the first man I'd had sex with. What with everything that had happened, there hadn't been much time for anything other than holding hands or the occasional stolen kiss. I was surprised Tony even was here in my room as he'd been busy showing the newly gazetted Captain Park how everything worked now he'd been promoted. He didn't even stir as I lifted the fur and crept down to lie at his hips.

Even when I was in my human form, I had excellent night vision, and I could see Tony clearly from the pale light coming in from the curtainless windows. His pubic hair was a fair sandy colour, the same as on his head and arms, and sprung in a riot of curls from the base of his belly, covering his balls. His cock lay on top; right now it was flaccid, the foreskin hiding the tip and I wondered what it felt like. Very gently I ran my finger over it, and was astonished at how soft it was, how velvety the skin felt to me. I stroked my finger up and down and watched as it started to grow, just from that little touch. I gently curled my hand round and began to move it. I don't know where I'd learnt to do that, it just felt right. I could smell how clean Tony was, and the beginnings of his arousal, and I was so tempted to taste him that I flicked my tongue out and licked the side, feeling how it jumped in my hand when I did. He grew bigger in front of my eyes, and I licked him again, liking the taste and smell that were also growing as I played with him. I ran my tongue along the top of it, from the base right up to the emerging tip, and then followed it down to the base again, where it met his balls.

I sat up for a minute, and thought about this. My mouth was roughly the same shape as my pussy, so it made sense that he would fit inside there too. I crouched down, propping myself up on one elbow, and opened my mouth wide. I placed the tip of his cock on my tongue and sucked on it, letting myself become accustomed to the weight and taste before moving my head down and taking more of it into me. Tony's cock was quite big now, almost as big as it had been on that first night, and I couldn't fit all of it in before it touched the back of my throat. I remembered how we'd moved that night, pushing our bodies together and how good it had felt then, so I began bobbing my head up and down on his cock. I'd been doing this for a few minutes when I felt his hands come up and grip the sides of my head, pulling me off firmly.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just a bit curious."

He bit his lips together, like he was trying not to smile. "Sweetheart, it's alright, I'm not mad. I thought I was dreaming for a minute there, that's all, and when I woke up and found you actually sucking on my cock like that I thought I was going to explode in your mouth."

"Would that be bad?" I was genuinely puzzled by all this.

"It might not be the best plan for your first time," Tony explained. "I'm told the taste takes some getting used to."

"Oh, right," I said. "There's something very strange going on though."

"And what's that?" Tony asked.

"Well, I haven't even touched myself -- you know, down there -- and I can feel I'm all wet." I was suddenly shy about naming my body.

"Can I have a feel?" Tony said.

"Yes," I replied, and lay back for him. Tony pulled me up beside him, and opened my legs.

"Goodness me, girl, you have got a wet little quim; and a horny one at that," Tony chuckled as I twitched upwards towards his fingers. "Let me see what I can do about that."

Tony rolled over so he was between my thighs, and pressed his hard cock against my dribbling pussy. I lifted my legs up high like he'd taught me to last time, and felt the same pressure as before. This time there was no hesitation, and he was able to slide all the way inside me with his first push. I could feel how hot he was inside me, and I wiggled impatiently; I wanted the tightness that meant I was about to orgasm and I wanted it now! Tony pushed his hands under my body, and held me close while he spun round onto his back with me firmly impaled on his cock and going nowhere.

"Now you sit up there and wiggle all you want to, make yourself cum on my cock, little Flossi," Tony said.

I giggled at the name he called me, and began wriggling up and down on top of him. Tony reached up and grabbed hold of my tits, squeezing the nipples between his thumb and forefinger while he groped them. I put my hands on his belly for balance, and began really bouncing up and down on his cock. It felt wonderful to be like this, and I couldn't stop giggling until I felt the squeeze in my belly that meant I was getting close to cuming, as Tony called it. I gasped as the sensations intensified, and Tony put his hands on my hips, pushing me down onto him as he began driving his cock up into me hard. I flung my head back and howled as I felt my pussy clamp down around Tony; the answering twitch and jump from his cock made everything even better. I slumped down, still shuddering slightly, and curled up in his arms. Tony kissed my nose and told me to go to sleep. I pulled the fur over us both and lay in a heap on top of him.

It didn't seem long before the alarm went off and we crawled out of my lair, and into the morning sunshine. Tony disappeared off to pack up the last of his stuff, and have breakfast while I got in the shower before joining him in the mess. After we'd eaten, Tony helped me take down my lair, and pack it away in the jeep. Bran was coming in the car to show us the way to the main estate, but Odin, Gelert and the witch had left at first light on foot. I'd said my good-byes to Mum last night after dinner so she wasn't there to wave us off, but the boys were there, sombre and quiet for once. We'd never been apart before, not like this and it was going to be strange not hearing them in my head or seeing the chaos that inevitably surrounded them.

The boys were setting off at lunchtime; the camp where they were to do their basic training was just up the road in Scotland, so they didn't have far to travel. We stood in a huddle off to one side, not speaking, simply sharing our thoughts and emotions, telling the others how we were going to miss them; the boys making me promise to text them once I was too far away to hear them. I realised how hard this was hitting them; I don't think they had realized how difficult it was going to be to let me go. We'd spent most of our lives looking after each other in one way or another, now we were going to be hundreds of miles apart and reliant on human technology just to talk. Finally though, Tony came over and collected me; it was time to leave this part of my life behind and move on.

Tony steered the big jeep along the twisting roads that led away from the camp. He'd volunteered to do most of the driving as I'd only passed my test a few weeks before. I was quite used to bouncing around off road, driving in the mountains and marshes around the camp, but I still got a little nervous about these huge cars on the tiny roads in the Lake District. I turned to Bran, and began questioning him about the estate, mainly to keep my mind off leaving my brothers behind. "How big is this estate then? Odin didn't get round to telling me," I asked.

"The main house sits in about two hundred acres," Bran told me in his soft Welsh burr. "There's a park bit for the tourists to look at, but mostly it is woodland full of deer."

"You have tourists coming to the estate?" I asked in surprise.

"It brings in money and stops people talking. How many big country houses do you know that don't open to the public?" Bran replied. "The main house is divided up into sections, and the front centre wing is the only part we let humans see, the rest is kept locked away. And if someone did get lost, then all they would see is lots of big dogs lounging around on the furniture. We had one old dear poking her nose round, and she was horrified to see Gelert draped over a tiny tapestry couch."

"I guess that would be pretty funny," I said.

"Yeah it was," Bran said. "Anyway, that's just the main house. There are four farms surrounding the park as well, with anywhere from one to eight hundred acres, so the whole place is very large. It's all run by weres; part of the clan rules are that you have to do something around the place to earn your keep, but we have a wide range of jobs so we can give pretty much anyone the job they want."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like, me -- I head up security with Gelert; we have forty guys underneath us who look after the main house, the perimeter of the park and the farms, personnel guarding and so on. We have the farm workers; there's housekeeping staff, three cooks, each suite in the main house has its own butler, presided over by Robson. There are gardeners, gamekeepers and grooms -- the three 'G's' that keep the outside looking spic and span. We have reception staff and secretaries who also double up as tour guides when we have visitors in. So you see there's something for everyone," Bran explained.

"Do you know what I'll be doing yet?" I inquired.

"My guess is pissing Brunhilde off," Bran replied with a grin. "She's been the princess for as long as she can remember; having an older sister show up to take her place is not going to please her, but tough tits to the bitch I say."

"She's not a humble girl then?" I asked.

"'Humble'? No, not the word I would use – the words that do come to mind are 'stuck up', 'spoilt', 'arrogant'. Brunhilde is very pretty, and thinks she's Odin's gift to the male population. She's a pure-bred whore actually. She's fifteen years old, and already making trouble with every male she can find, including one of my guys until I set him straight," Bran explained.

"I should think so too at fifteen," Tony said. "I'd have slapped ten kinds of shit out of him for that, and then made him lick it up."

"Yes," Bran said, "and she'd have enjoyed seeing every second of it too. No, I just took him off her rotation, and put him in charge of the tour guides. It is boring work -- mind numbing actually, nothing ever happens. He was good about it though; he knew why I'd done it even though nothing had happened."

Tony glanced over at Bran. "A good deterrent is better than a bad cure," he said with an understanding smile.

"Exactly," Bran replied. "When you've found your beast, come and talk to me, I might have the perfect job for you."

"Thanks but I'm good. I've got my assignment right here beside me," Tony patted my knee and grinned.

"When you two prize fighters are quite finished, can I ask a question?" I interrupted. "What, apart from making enemies before I've set foot in the building, will I be doing there?"

"Having seen you fight, I'd love to have you with Gelert and me," Bran said. "However, I'm guessing Odin won't be too keen on the idea, so my guess is secretarial pool, right down at the bottom of the ladder."

My face fell; Bran had to be kidding. "Will I have to wear heels and make-up?" I asked.