Grandpa Wolfie and Me, an erotic werewolf story of old family secrets
The knock at the door was a surprise. Mom had only just left and must have forgot something, I wondered to myself. But the knock came again, in the pattern of "shave and a haircut", and I threw open the door. Sure enough, standing there with his crooked smile was the man of my dreams.
"Grandpa Wolfie!" I squealed in delight, throwing my arms around him.
"My little Ylva!" he replied, with the pet name he'd used since I was a girl.
"How do you like my new apartment?" I asked shyly. It wasn't much, and was all a mess like grandpa's hair. His untamable hair was the reason I called him "Wolfie," or so I thought.
"It's lovely, like you," he replied with sincerity and pride. "I love your choice of decorations and the colors, it reminds me of the forests in the old country."
I felt embarrassed at the unexpected compliment which was really a tease since I had so little, so I teased him back, "And your silver hair reminds me of a scrub brush."
He chuckled as he crossed the room to the sofa, sitting down. "Better to have silver hair than none at all!" And then he changed the subject, "And how is your love life, my little Ylva?"
My heart fell. I couldn't lie to Grandpa Wolfie. I walked over and sat next to him. I didn't speak. I shrugged.
"Hmm, that bad?" I was silent, face turning red. Grandpa continued, "It's not so bad, and anyway, I can tell you how to improve your love life overnight." That got my attention, grandpa was always sincere. "However, it's a choice you must make, and make today. Your 20
th
birthday is very special, and I've come here today to tell you about it."
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, and he put his right arm around me, stroking my long red hair, running his hand from the top to the ends and then starting again. I liked that feeling, it made me feel safe, and secure.
He continued, "I have to start with a story. Did you know that I'm old?"
"Of course Grandpa, but not that old."
"Well, I have a confession, I'm 214 years old this week. Not 72 as everybody thinks."
My mind spun, how could he be so old? It wasn't possible. But I trusted Grandpa, and waited for him to go on.
***
"When I was a young man, about your age but in 1820, I was a trapper in the Norwegian mountains. I was quite a free spirit then, and opportunity was everywhere in the deep woods. I was hunting bear, and was making a nice living at it. One winter day, as I was checking my trap lines, I happened upon the most unexpected thing. A beautiful woman appeared, in a remote place where there shouldn't have been any people. And she was badly injured. As soon as I saw her, my heart was filled with pity, and I rushed to help her. But she just snarled at me, and made her hands look like claws. It took me a while but I calmed her down, convincing her I wasn't going to hurt her. She finally told me her name, Ylva." At this he looked into my eyes. "You are named after her."
I had a thousand questions, and excitement rushed into my body, making my spine tingle, but I waited for Grandpa to continue.
"She said her home was very far away, too far to walk while injured, so I took her back to my camp. I treated her leg carefully; she said that she had fallen down a hill, and got her leg caught between two branches. I ignored her statements, allowing her to keep her secret. The leg showed signs as if a strong jaw had chewed on it -- the flesh was torn and mangled. Despite my best bandaging, and careful cleaning, I realized she was probably going to get gangrene and would lose her leg -- it was torn up badly, she could easily even lose her life (remember this was the 1800's). She saw my grim expression and understood. After I prepared a meal for us and cleaned up, she looked at me across the campfire for some time, as if making a judgment or coming to a decision. Dusk settled over our camp, the only sounds being the snapping of the fire. "
She finally spoke, 'I want you to think very carefully about what I am going to say. I judge you to be an honorable man, and not a superstitious person who only sees the world as black and white.'
This intrigued me, although it sounded very mysterious.
She went on, "In about 30 minutes, the moon will rise. There is power in the moon, and the deep woods, and it will change me. You see, I am half wolf, half woman."
This was peculiar to me, but I asked, "What is it you're trying to tell me?"
She continued. "When the moon rises, I will turn into a red haired wolf woman. At that time, you must ravish me."
"What?" I was taken aback, "What do you mean, you'll really turn into a wolf? Isn't that an old wives tale? And what do you mean, ravish you? You mean for me to rape you? I will not!"
"No," she replied fervently. "You see, I will turn into a wolf, and if a man mates me, gives me his seed when I am a wolf, I can use what I take from him to heal my leg."
This was all sounding very much like a fairy tale, and a young man's erotic fantasy, but I took her seriously. People did not go deep into the woods and tell stories. And how had she gotten there? I believed her. And taking another look at her, something in me woke from slumber. There was something in her bearing that spoke of lust, of desire.
"But there is something else you must know. It is a gift, or at least, most would see it as a gift, but you may avoid this. When you give me your seed, deep within my body, my wolf aura will respond. After you finish filling me with your gift of life, you must immediately escape my embrace. If a wolf-man ravishes me, he cannot escape because of the knot and I have my lustful way with him. You are an ordinary man only. My wolf half will seek to entrap you, wrap you in my she-wolf arms and legs and then I will claw your back and attempt to give you a bite. If I have you in my embrace you will not be able to avoid it. I will be very strong. And then it will be done and too late. You must choose!"
Everything she had said was strangely erotic to me, and began to bring a strong sense of lust into my body. My arms tingled and my penis began to stir as only a young man's does at the thought of sex, especially primal animal sex. I shifted my hips to give my manhood some room, then looked up. Her expression hadn't changed. I puzzled over her words.
My look of question brought her to continue, "Here is the gift. You will turn into a man wolf at the next cycle of the moon and forever after. You must be in the woods or someplace safe, with understanding friends. When the wolf man is upon you, you will still know you are a man, but you will be driven to do wolfish things, hunt in the night, make love to a woman with wild abandon, and lash out if any oppose you. As you age, you will better learn to control these impulses and even use your wolf skills other than during the dark of the moon, but you must always be careful. The world does not look kindly on those who are different."
I wasn't so sure it was any sort of present. "And that is your.. gift?"
"No, there is more. Men and women who are half-wolf have the power to heal themselves as I beg you to do to me tonight by sharing your seed. But also, we are very long lived. I myself am 453 years old, and yet only appear as 40 to your human eyes. But you will find that your wolf skills will help you in all things. You will hear the secret whisper of those trying to keep things from you, you will be able to smell an enemy when he is five miles away, when you make love to a woman.. well, you will discover that for yourself. You will become more than a man, and women will crave your passion. That is my gift, if you want it."
I sat back pondering all that she had said. This was intriguing, but I wasn't sure I believed it. Nonetheless, my youthful lust was making any thoughts other than sex irrelevant. A beautiful woman wanted to have wild sex with me, supposedly to heal her leg. What a story, the other trappers would never believe it. But she interrupted my thoughts.
"Will you do this for me? I must know, the moon is almost arisen. If not, I must flee."
Her voice sounded different, and as I looked over at her, I found to my surprise that her face had changed. Her eyebrows seemed to be growing hair in short tufts. Her nose was elongating in an elegant and beautiful way. Two sharp teeth poked from the front of her mouth -- no, her
muzzle