Dare – Book II » Prologue by Crazy Dog Lady Theresa

A literotic sexstories: Dare – Book II » Prologue by Crazy Dog Lady Theresa ,

The Dare story continues as the Onijwa, a young woman possessing the spirit of a wolf, finds herself without a Master. Caught between two worlds, will she find a home with her human neighbors, or can she join her mate’s Pack hunting in the wild? Only time…and Fate…will tell. -Note: you should read “Dare Book I” before reading this sequel.

The dream woke me, jerking me upright on the old mattress and heavy quilts and blankets which made my bed. I was wide-eyed and aware of an ache in my chest. It took me a moment to realize I was holding my breath and I had to fight to let it out, wheezing as I drew fresh, cool air into my lungs. I coughed and closed my eyes and beside me I could feel one of my brothers stirring sleepily, lifting his great head and sniffing the air.

I felt his tongue on me. Bush. Licking at my hip, telling me to go back to sleep. He could sense my fear, but find no cause for it, and this was not the first time I’d had a bad dream. I sat there, pulling my knees to my breasts and hugging myself in the dark with all of my senses awakened. I could hear the spring night outside our room. The breeze through the barnyard and the trees beyond. The scratching of tiny claws in the rafters above us; a mouse repairing its nest. The sound of my three brothers, Bandy, Barley, and Bush sleeping around me.

I could smell them, rich and musky, and myself as well. The ripe scent of coupling with Bandy just a few hours before filled the room. Just as I was still full of him, although I’d been leaking steadily and my thighs were damp with our combined juices. I could taste him on my lips and tongue; the remains of the dog’s semen in my mouth as I’d cleaned him afterwards while our brothers had watched from their pallet. It was a normal night and I could not say what month or day it was. I had no knowledge of such things. They were useless to me.

The days were growing warmer and longer, but it wasn’t yet summer. I’d been there two years, perhaps, or longer. I couldn’t remember the month when I’d arrived, was it April? Was it another April again so soon? It seemed I’d only just arrived, or that I’d been there forever. I felt both all at once and all the time. I put it out of my mind and moved off our bed slowly, carefully as I wished to go outside and pee. I might have used the small drain in our tiled bath area, but I rarely did that anymore. I was a dog, a bitch, and so I wanted to go outside.

I wanted to see if he was there. Urinating was my excuse and as I crossed the cool gravel towards the horse paddock and the unkempt fields beyond, I gave up all pretenses. My brothers did not follow. I could see well enough in the dark, moving by the light of a half-moon and a million distant stars. I sniffed the air and felt my certain way with bare calloused feet. I’d been a girl once, but no more. I was Onijwa, a person with the spirit of an animal inside her. I was a dog, a wolf, and I’d been mated during my Awakening with another and he was out there now, waiting for me.

He was close. I couldn’t see him or smell him, but I could sense him.

I ran with my thick black hair billowing behind me. My small body, lean and hard, worked perfectly. I was strong and healthy, with soft doe eyes and caramel skin rippling as the muscles worked beneath. My small breasts, pierced through my dark nipples with delicate bone rings, barely moved as I darted quickly and quietly across the open ground. I was naked and most comfortable that way. It had been too long for me to remember since the last time I’d worn clothing of any sort, since I’d been ill with pneumonia and near death. That had been two winters ago and I was long since recovered. I ran swiftly for ten minutes, leaving the farm behind me as I entered the safety of the forest proper.

The wind was in my favor. I’d kept downwind of the hills and now I moved across it, seeking his scent on the air. It was a game we played, a lover’s pleasure as only another wolf would understand it. The hunt was our foreplay and my heart was beating fast. I was breathless, but only with excitement, the physical exertion was nothing for me and I could run for an hour if I had to without tiring. I tilted my head, hearing a faint rustling to my left, downwind, and so I stopped, frozen in place, crouching as a shadow in those black woods. He was there and I caught the golden glint of his narrow eyes regarding me silently.

I hadn’t run far enough or fast enough, and the beast was stalking me. He had the advantage and my body reeked of my earlier sex and the bed where I’d lain. I was easy to find and easy to follow and with that realization I laughed, which was a sound I found annoying for it was uniquely mine, and a reminder that I was still human in some small ways. My brothers enjoyed it, however, and they would tease me with their tongues to hear me giggle. Human laughter is a delight to a dog’s ears; like a baby’s smile or a mother’s touch, laughter has a presence all its own.

So I laughed and I ran, past the place where my mate and I had first fought, where I’d taken him and in my victory given myself to him completely. I leapt across the stream there, fat and quick now with the spring thaw, and cold as I splashed through the opposite bank and up the short ravine. I’d made a den, a place for us beneath the heavy boughs of a large fir tree, and the ground beneath it was soft with moss and thin dry grass. It smelled of pine tar and earth. I’d gathered dried leaves the previous autumn and made a bed for us, lining it with hair, my own and his. It wasn’t a proper den, but it was warm and sheltered and it had served us well through the winter.

He approached cautiously, and his footsteps were slow and light as I lay on my side, stretched out and smiling while he circled the tree. I offered him a sharp bark of happy impatience and my body was tingling for I was in love with him. With a deep throated growl his head appeared finally, pushing through the pine branches and he bared his teeth, staring at me until I lowered my eyes submissively. He took in the scent of my well used sex first, pressing his snout between my legs, forcing my thighs apart to his inspection, and jerked away as he smelled the dog semen inside me like a deep stain.

I reached for him slowly, clutching at his thick fur which was slowly thinning with the spring. He was dark, black and silver, and large. He’d been feeding well again and I was glad. I’d brought him food on occasion, when I was able to catch a wild hare which were plentiful, or the one time I’d come across a goat, lost apparently and wandering alone. I’d killed for him and at other times we’d hunted together, although only briefly.

My Master had named him ‘Chance’ after he’d become aware of the wolf’s occasional presence. It is peculiar to humans that they must name everything. To me he was ‘Mate’ and we had our own sounds for that word; a soft pleasant growl from deep in the belly when we were close, and a long warbling howl when we were apart. The wolf was wary, of course, and careful to avoid my brothers, but he couldn’t resist his instinctive need to be near me. Wolves mate for life and he’d left his pack to remain where I could meet him, sneaking into the night as my own instincts were loosed by his calling.

Above us, in the hills and mountain slopes surrounding the reservation upon which my Master’s home was built, the pack was birthing their offspring now. I could hear their songs echoing at night and it was an emptiness inside me which I knew would never be filled. If it confused my mate, why he’d given me no pups to nurse with swollen milk-filled breasts, he gave me no sign of it. Perhaps there was some understanding within him, I couldn’t know. The language of animals doesn’t extend so far and it was a sadness inside me, but I was comforted by his continued attention and I lavished myself upon him when we were together.

We didn’t mate immediately, but rather the wolf laid beside me, pressing his coarse back against my belly with his handsome head upright, mouth open with his long red tongue lolling between his sharp teeth. I spent some time grooming him with my human hands. At times I imagined them as a handicap, in fact my whole body was ill-suited to what I truly was, but I couldn’t deny my fingers their usefulness. I pulled burrs from his coat and combed my fingers through his fur, feeling for ticks and digging them out of his soft skin. I often did the same for my brothers and it was a slow, pleasurable task and I enjoyed the intimacy of it.

After some time, in the last dark hour of the night, I slipped my hand down his heavy chest and soft belly, to the place where his hair was soft as silk, and I found my mate’s cock, firm and resting within its sheath. I buried my face in his neck, stroking him slowly as I growled my desire. He turned his head, licking at my neck and shoulder, pushing his snout into my hair which was long and loose. His breath was hot in my ear and I felt the odd-shaped tip of his penis slipping out, the tapering head already growing moist with precum, and the smell of my own arousal surrounded us in our refuge. The musky odor of desire radiated from my pores and he didn’t protest as I moved slowly, crawling over him, splitting my legs wide so I could mark his body with the moist scent of my passion, dragging my sex along his fur as I made to exit the den.

There wasn’t enough room within and so I waited for my mate without, on my hands and knees, calling him with a high pitched howl, announcing my readiness to any who could hear and understand. Another wolf, probably young and in his first season as an adult, heard me and answered from some distance away. It was a tease and drew my mate out of our den quickly, as I knew it would.

I was telling him that I would couple with the first male who would claim me and it was a common sound in the early spring, females using it to spur their mates into action. It would occasion a fight if another male heeded her call too eagerly, but only rarely and fight is the wrong word. Contest is better, and the female’s mate was invariably the victor in such events, for her attentions were ever meant for him alone and the newcomer would know that. The female would be punished for her temerity, of course, since she’d challenged her lover to prove himself.

So it was that my mate took me quickly, leaping upon my back with his chest high and head low, and wrapping his powerful forelimbs around my waist so that I was forced to bear his considerable weight. His teeth went to my shoulder as I gasped, nipping my soft flesh sharply and drawing blood, while his prick slipped free of its sheath completely and he stabbed at my sex, searching for the entrance to my womb. I moved myself awkwardly in an effort to help him and then I felt him suddenly, the length of his cock splitting my labia and thrusting fully inside my pussy all at once. I growled with the pain of it, but the pleasure followed immediately as he began to fuck me with urgent strokes.

I turned my head as he held his bony chin against my collar and I licked at the wolf’s jaw, running the tip of my tongue across his sharp teeth. I was submissive to him when he took me, as I’d been since the first time we’d mated at the gathering place called Table Rock. That was where my spirit had been awakened and welcomed by the Native Americans who understood such things. I was a part of the tribe now, although I could only dimly appreciate that.

The wolf scratched my sides painfully as he fought for leverage and I had numerous scars already from tooth and claw, some old and faded white upon my skin, others fresh and pink and barely healed. Now I would have new ones and I wore them proudly, much as I wore the tattoo around my belly button and the piercings in my nipples, and the one lower, the bone ring through my pubis. My Master had arranged for those, and like the scars on my sides and shoulders, they were an indelible part of me now. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have them, nor would I want to.

I lowered my head finally, both of us panting as we rutted hard beneath the sky as it began to grey in the east. His cock was large and hot, splitting my sex easily now, reaching into the depths of my pussy and I was long used to such things. I stretched around him eagerly and the soft muscles of my cuntal walls clasped to hold the animal tight, quivering with the useless effort as he withdrew time after time, plumbing my sex rapidly until the knot of muscle growing at the base of his cock demanded its proper place within me.

The bulb was large, but not fully ripened, and with a satisfied barking howl the wolf gave a final hard thrust to force the blood engorged knot into the mouth of my cunt. It grew quickly then as my mate began the quick short thrusting which would bring his final release. I was stretched now, and very full as the muscle trapped inside me grew even further. It blocked my sex completely, damming inside our juices, and the knowledge that we were locked tightly together brought me to orgasm as surely as the physical sensations that were quickly overwhelming me.

I clawed at the soft ground beneath me and strained to move myself against him, bearing my lover’s weight breathlessly and desperate to feel his seed jetting into my womb. My heart was a hammer in my chest and my nipples burned ice cold with pleasure. My pussy spasmed as I had one climax after another, milking the wolf’s impossibly hard cock for his living sperm. We were breeding and I should have been in season long before, as winter ended, and I had been, but only in my heart. In my spirit. It was a torturous knowledge and mercifully it was momentarily lost as I felt my mate cumming. His cock seemed to swell larger for a brief second before ejaculating his hot semen against the pillow of my cervix, spraying inside me to penetrate that curious bottleneck and find my womb just beyond.

It brought yet another orgasm of my own, the fourth perhaps, or fifth, and the best of them all as I joined in my mate’s rapturous release. Our juices mingling inside me, seeping into the soft recesses of my body, bathing my lover’s still hard cock as he continued to leak sperm for the many long minutes it would require before the knot would begin to shrink enough to slip from my sex. I always came with him, and with my brothers as well, but most especially with my mate. It was the one time, in those few precious seconds, when I could truly forget I was only a girl.

We were vulnerable then, after our sex when we were locked together with his cock trapped in my pussy. The wolf moved with surprising ease, turning on his hinged penis so that he could face the opposite direction, guarding us while we waited for his sperm to do its work in my womb. He would bring his head down occasionally, to sniff and lap at our union, perhaps pulling at me to test the strength of our physical bond. I would growl at him then, feeling lazy and happy, with my head down on my folded arms, keeping my ass high and watching as the sky grew light around us.

The sun rose late, but always quickly as it came over the mountains to the east. It was a clear sky and an especially bright star caught my eye, or perhaps a planet? Probably a planet, I thought, maybe Venus, although I’d hardly been much of a girl for knowing such things. School had confused me, the way most of my previous life had. I’d never understood people very well, or the civilized world. I’d been easily bewildered and naïve, and most people who’d known me had thought me somewhat simple, to put it nicely. That I’d been found by the one person in the whole world who could care for me and give me what I required was more than just luck. It was proof of something greater than us. Fate or Destiny or God. Whatever it was, it was there and I was grateful.

My Master had taken me in and set me free, although he’d had little idea himself of what he was doing. That was the great irony. How he’d merely sought a girl to entertain him with his dogs, a girl who would pretend to be a dog. I was a dog pretending to be human and I’d resisted at first, but only because I was by nature afraid of change and fearful of risk. That I’d accepted it finally and without coercion had led, perhaps, to the wonderfully clever name my Master had settled upon for me. Before he’d found me it would have seemed a joke, but no longer and I fingered my well worn collar, the supple black leather around my throat, and the three heart shaped tags hanging from it.

One of them, the metal tag nearest the front, read “Dare” in simple letters.

The morning was golden as I crouched by the stream, washing myself thoroughly after my toilet. The wolf had left me after we’d groomed each other briefly and made our goodbyes. He would return to the hills, shadowing his old pack and perhaps joining them for a hunt as they ranged higher to take the wild sheep, and lower to find deer and rabbits. He wasn’t an outcast except by choice, when he left the pack to find me. I gathered some wild radish leaves, putting them in my mouth and chewing them into a soft pulp.

They were bitter, but good for cuts and wounds, and I pinched the pulp between my fingers, squeezing the juice onto my shoulder where my mate had bitten me, and then rubbing the moist leaves against my wound gently. I did the same with the claw marks on my waist, although they weren’t so deep. It stung a little and stopped the bleeding quickly, staining my brown skin with a dull, greenish tint. My Master would frown when he saw me, I knew that, and I’d be meek and yielding to his anger, but it would pass quickly. He didn’t understand completely, but he wanted to.

The Indian medicine man, White Cloud, who was very old and wise, he understood me completely, or as well as a man could. He would visit sometimes and look at me, touch me with his gnarled hands and bony fingers. He’d promised sanctuary for my mate, even though some of the Indians raised lambs and occasionally lost one to the wolf. White Cloud understood that it was in the wolf’s nature to be a predator, just as a lamb must be prey. Losing a few small sheep was akin to a sacrifice to the nature spirits of both animals, or so he’d tried to explain to my Master. White Cloud knew better than to try and explain anything to me and it pleased me greatly when the old man was near.

Another man would come as well, the large Indian named Joe, and he was my Master’s friend. He was fat with a cheerful round face and ready smile to go with his great belly and huge, gentle hands. He would come and sit with my Master, drinking beer and talking in the evenings, and occasionally making use of me for his own pleasure and his friend’s.

My Master enjoyed seeing me suck the Indian’s cock, which was a very large one, and the man would even fuck me once in awhile. My brothers hadn’t liked that at first and they’d guarded my sex jealously for many months, but eventually they’d grown accustomed to the man well enough to let him mate with me. They watched him closely even so and after the Indian pulled out, spending his orgasm on my back usually, one of the dogs would mount me immediately, reclaiming me as their own.

The doctor would come as well, and he was a man I didn’t like. Not for any specific reason, except that he didn’t understand me at all and accepted me only reluctantly. My brothers disliked him as well, especially the antiseptic smell of his skin and clothing which was unnatural and offensive to all of us. I understood the necessity though, or more probably I understood my Master’s caution and desire to keep me safe. The body I’d been born into hadn’t been intended for the life I was living, but it had adapted well enough and even the old doctor had to agree that I was in fine health physically. My mind, in his opinion, was another matter entirely and he would query me closely, asking if I was content and happy.

All I could do was look at him and smile then, but I was fearful that there would come a time when that answer wouldn’t be enough for the doctor.

I heard my three brothers long before I could see them and as the morning breeze shifted momentarily, I caught their scent and it spurred me to run through the forest towards them. They were on their morning patrol, which was a great joy for all of us, especially on a beautiful day such as this. I moved ahead of them, knowing all too well their path, and I crouched at the edge of a field overgrown with wild winter wheat, ripe for harvest and wonderfully tall. It was perfect for hiding in and I panted softly while I waited.

Bush was some distance off and he’d caught my scent so that he was barking happily and bounding about in the tall grasses as if I might be near him. Barley paused to lift his head high, his ears stiff and flicking in the wind as it came from behind him. Bandy, the largest of the three and our leader, was running ahead, charging through the grass and eager to reach the tree line behind me.

I steadied myself, smelling and hearing him, but I could see nothing except the wall of pale grain surrounding me. At the first sign of their parting I gave a sharp bark of my own and sprang forward, pushing with my legs so that I was completely in the air and on him before Bandy could brace himself for my attack. I crashed into his muscular shoulder as he fought his own momentum, and then we were off balance and falling, his head whipping around with those huge jaws open. Bandy was growling and scrambling with his paws for purchase as he fell onto his left side.

I straddled him quickly, feeling one of his rear claws gouging deep into my right calf before I could get my leg between both of Bandy’s, pressing my knee into the soft spot just beneath his rib cage. My other leg was stiff, behind the animal’s back, giving me leverage as I lay half upon him, and I had my left arm under his neck, my hand flat with fingers spread as I pressed it against the side of his face, at his cheek while my right arm covered his throat from above.

Bandy was strong and whipping his head violently back and forth, trying to catch my hand in his mouth while I tried to use my legs to roll the animal over, but he was far too heavy for that and it was a fight I couldn’t win. I wasn’t able to control his head quickly enough and he jerked free of my left hand. Bandy turned his face downward and suddenly took my arm in his mouth, high just below my shoulder, and it was painful, but he wasn’t biting me hard. His teeth hardly broke the skin and Bandy just held me like that, growling softly as I relaxed my body completely. The whole affair had lasted only a few seconds, but time moves differently in a fight, even a friendly one between brother and sister.

He let me go after a moment and I didn’t move right away, but just lay there; avoiding Bandy’s bright amber eyes as he stood above me quickly. Both of us were breathing hard and his cock had grown with our excitement. Sometimes I won, sometimes my brothers won, but it was always fun and we loved it. Barley and Bush had come running and they were barking, dancing through the weeds happily and wanting me to play with them as well. But I ignored them, moving instead to take my place as Bandy’s bitch. He’d won and I submitted myself if he wanted me. If not, one of the other two would take his place, I had little doubt of that.

He pressed his cold damp nose to my sex briefly, perhaps smelling the wolf on me, but I’d washed myself well and in truth they’d grown accustomed to that scent, although they neither understood nor appreciated it. If my brothers found him, they would kill my mate, and that was the driving force behind our caution. It wasn’t men we feared, it was my three brothers, and I couldn’t do anything about it except this. On the mornings after meeting Chance I would make it a point to distract the dogs, playing games such as this and keeping their interest solely on me so that I could ensure my lover’s escape.

Bandy was well distracted now and if his mind wasn’t made up to take me before, after smelling my freshly fucked and washed cunt he was definitely in the mood to claim me. He mounted me easily and unlike the wolf, Bandy was happy to bear much of his own weight, which was considerable, but I could do it when I needed to. I was much stronger than I appeared, and of course it wasn’t an unpleasant burden by any means.

The dogs were all very large, over a hundred and fifty pounds each, bred for size and power from a mastiff father and a mother with St. Bernard and Great Dane bloodlines. They were mongrels to be sure, but beautiful nonetheless, with brindle backs and white bellies; long coats, but hardly shaggy. They had some black around their handsome heads and they shared those gorgeous amber eyes. My brothers were proud and strong, lean with muscle and perhaps suspicious by temperment. I loved them all very much.

As I knelt there, Bandy was able to straddle me easily, his soft stomach sliding over my ass and lower back, his chest pressing up, between my shoulders, and his cock grew quickly to its generous size. It was long and thickest in the middle, big enough that my hand couldn’t encircle the shaft, and I reached behind me to guide the dog inside my sex. He was surprisingly gentle, in fact they all were, and while the dogs acted tough, even aggressive in front of strangers, the fact was that they were all just oversized puppies. At least to my mind. They were not even five years old yet, just young adults, and all they wanted was to shed their abundant joyful energy.

Fucking was a really good way to do that.

“Dare.”

My Master found us soon after Bandy had entered me and it wasn’t often enough that he came out with us on our morning jaunts. Our Master was tall and older, perhaps sixty years of age, although I’m rather bad at determining such things. He was neither handsome nor ugly, but kind and loving and wise. He was a father to us all and we loved him. He was our Master, which is a word of infinite and simple meaning. Much like the word God is for most people.

“Where did you run off to, girl? Huh?” he chided me gently and stroked my face. “See your boyfriend?”

I moaned happily at his touch, while Bandy ignored it. He wouldn’t tolerate one of his brothers coming so close without at least a warning growl, but this was our Master, and so the dog merely continued to fuck me. He arched his back and put more of his weight upon me than he normally might, merely because we were outside and he did want to finish quickly. Bandy’s cock was stabbing me deep and hard, the knot already inside me as I’d been well stretched previously and that made it especially good for me. The bulb slipped in and out a few times, but finally it grew too large for escape and we were locked in our union.

Our Master examined my shoulder; although he couldn’t get a good look at it because of Bandy’s oversized head panting next to mine. He saw enough to know I’d been bitten and he’d assume I had scratches as well, which he would fuss over later. Master said nothing, but merely watched us fuck for a few moments before calling Barley and Bush to his side, leaving Bandy and me to finish our mating alone. We’d catch up sometime later, depending on how long it would take for the knot to go down.

I didn’t orgasm until Bandy did and it was a good one, like they all are. The first few times I’d mated with my brothers they’d torn my sex, as I’d been unused to their size and power. But right now was a very long time after back then, and my pussy could take them easily and as often as we liked, which was to say quite often. Between my brothers and my mate, I was very active sexually, even promiscuous, if a dog could be accused of such a thing. It amused my Master to no end and he was proud of my sexual appetite and stamina, I think. He certainly did nothing to discourage me and sometimes went out of his way to ensure I was mated, whether I desired it or not.

That was the purpose of my pubic piercing, a bone ring which lanced my flesh deeply where my pubic mound was swollen round with fat. He would chain me to an eyebolt in the floor of our room and I was unable to refuse anyone then. The dogs could take me at will and they often did, finding it a wonderful game to have their sister trapped like that. I didn’t understand at first. Even if I wasn’t in the mood for sex, if my Master wished it I wouldn’t have refused him anything. Gradually though I was made to understand that it was more the symbolism he enjoyed, the fact that I was placed in a position where my willingness wasn’t an issue.

Sometimes I believed that my Master desired a dog that was not quite as eager as me. At the same time though, I knew he wouldn’t have traded me for anything in the world. My Master was no fool and I was his treasure, or so he’d told his friend Joe more than once in my presence, and neither the Indian nor I doubted my Master’s opinion. So it was for that reason and countless others that I gave my Master no reason to doubt my own devotion to him.

The last words I’d ever spoken as a human had been to tell him that I loved him.

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