tagErotic HorrorRevisited: Red Riding Hood

Revisited: Red Riding Hood

byTheBriarRose©

Once upon a time...

Three massive wolves stalked through the village streets, growling and snapping at the frightened citizens that dared peer through their windows. A young beggar ran across the street and the largest wolf, wind rushing through the shining black fur, pounced, pinning him with one large paw and leaning his head down, tearing out the young boy's throat. He let out a howl and his companions joined him, howling up at the moon, full above them. The eldest of the three, who was as black as his nephew, though the smooth fur bore streaks of silver, paused, lowering his gaze to a young woman who stood calmly in the middle of the street. A long hooded cloak of vibrant red silk hung from her slender frame and beneath the hood the wolves caught glimpses of soft blonde curls and blue eyes, dark as the sky above. She stepped back and they stalked closer, sniffing curiously.

"Creatures of the fullest moon, great wolves, I offer myself, my body in exchange for the safety of my village," she called to the three. The third wolf, a handsome brunette, growled, offering a wolfish grin to his pack mates. They seemed to converse among themselves for a moment before approaching the girl. She led them through the village and into the woods, towards a clearing marked by herself and her mother the evening before. Her back never faced them, for she had memorized the route long ago. The alpha stepped forwards, gaze sweeping over the attractive female. She slipped the cloak off, letting the golden waves tumble over her shoulders, almost to her waist. Her lithe frame bore no other cloth, exposed for their pleasure. They circled her slowly and then the brunette nudged his head between her legs, knocking her back against the elder who lay down slowly, lowering her to the ground. She lay there watching as they shifted to the typical appearance of their kind, human in stature, animal in appearance with muzzles and tails still apparent. The three stood over her, growling and snarling, though not in threat, simply in warning, for she knew what was to come.

The alpha took her first, thrusting his hardened length deep within her, claws tearing across the tender flesh of her back. He was delighted to see her enjoying it, eyes closed as she clung to him, legs wrapped as well as they could around his waist. He thrust into her a few more times before jerking out to spray his load across her nude body, howling, his body shaking as more and more left him to coat her pale flesh. He collapsed atop her, licking her chest clean before moving aside to allow the elder his turn. The graying wolf was gentler with their gift, one furry hand pinning her wrists above her head, while the other moved carefully over her exposed breasts, the nipples standing proudly at attention as soon as he touched them. A proud erection poked out of his sheath and he guided it to her entrance, thrusting his hips forwards to penetrate her, his gentle pace the complete opposite of his nephew. He licked her neck as he moved within her, drawing soft gasps and sighs from the full lips. They seemed to inspire the alpha, who promptly moved above her head, offering his already stiffening length to her lips. She accepted eagerly, drawing him into her mouth. He gripped her hair as she suckled gently upon him, watching the elder move his own shaft within this strange girl. Growing impatient, he began to thrust into her mouth, pre-cum oozing into her throat. She swallowed what she could, nearly choking when both he and his uncle came at the same time, filling her mouth and her womb with the thick white cream. They moved away from her, thinking at first that she'd be exhausted, but the girl instead eyed the brunette.

"Bet you'd like me on all fours," she breathed, her voice carrying a sultry tone. The wolf moved forwards as she shifted to her hands and knees. He moved behind her and gripped her hips tightly as he guided his excited man (wolf?) hood towards her entrance. But then he stopped, moving one hand to rub gently at her slit, the juices slick on his fingers. He moved the fingers to the puckered asshole and rubbed the liquid over it. She attempted to crawl away, but he jerked her back towards him, entering her tiny rear in one smooth motion. He seemed to enjoy the cry that passed through her lips, for he pulled back until the tip teased the edge of her hole, then pushed back in, his claws ripping deep gashes in her hips. Picking up a steady rhythm, he slammed in and out of her, listening as the pained cries turned into excited moans and soon enough, the girl was pushing back against him. He reached down and brushed a single claw over her clit. It was enough to push her to climax, the slender body shuddering and jerking beneath him. As her ass clenched around his length, he tensed, then let loose a yowl as he unloaded into her. The wolves cleaned each other and left, leaving the girl shivering in the middle of the clearing, covered in their semen and deeply satisfied.

*



This was the story told to all that joined the Sisters of the Wolves, for it was the story of their founder, Elizabeth Graham. Over one hundred years had passed since that fateful full moon. The village had long forgotten about the werewolves, except in the bedtime stories told to the aging youth. This was because of the Sisters. They never numbered more than five, taking turns going out to the wolves on each full moon. It offered the girl who had gone at least four months to heal, a rule that Elizabeth had set after her second union with the wolves.

It was the story told to Renee Branson when she was sent to them at eight. Her father had thought the Sisters might train her, after a whipping had left her gasping and begging him for more. Disturbed by his strange child, he had gone to their manor outside the village and begged them to take her off his hands. They had, willingly, and raised her in their ways. She was one of twelve girls taken in for training that year. Only three were alive when she became of age at sixteen.

Then, six months after her eighteenth birthday, she was summoned for duty. At the time only two others remained, Lucy Morris and Janine Wilcox. The two were getting on in years, having long past their fortieth birthdays, and had attempted to send out the last girl they had been training only one month earlier. She had been torn apart and three villagers had been killed. Janine summoned Renee to her chambers and presented her with her first cloak. The red shone against her pale skin and complimented her auburn waves. Her eyes were a pale green, shining from beneath the hood. Janine touched a hand to her throat and whispered the rites.

"I am a servant of the wolves, daughter of the moon," Renee repeated, hand to her own throat. "I serve my village, my people. I go forth without fear and with only love in my heart." She bowed to Janine and smiled softly. The white haired elder sent her from the room.

"Goddess bless and protect you my child," the woman murmured.

*



Renee glanced at her reflection a mirror as she passed it, moving through the building with unusual grace. She swallowed nervously, then took a deep breath.

"I go forth without fear and with only love in my heart," she whispered as she exited the building and headed south towards the clearing. The moon was shining brightly above her as she stepped within the sacred circle. Three wolves entered from the opposite side. She looked at each of them, the massive black, his smaller graying uncle and the oddly colored brunette. Shedding her robe, she spoke the old words.

"Creatures of the fullest moon, great wolves, I offer myself, my body in exchange for the safety of my village." Her voice carried across the clearing to the sensitive ears of her audience. Stepping to the center, she shed her cloak, standing bare before them. She watched as they changed to the half-man creatures of the story, but nothing would prepare her for what happened next. Instead of the singular unions she had been told of, the three rushed her, knocking her roughly to the grassy earth. The alpha's muzzle was poised over her throat, as if expecting her to scream. Instead, the roughness of his claws against her stomach drew a low moan from her lips. The creature looked startled, then let out a sound that couldn't be anything but a laugh. The surprised girl was then lifted up by the brunette, who lay back with her and immediately buried himself deep within her bottom with a proud growl. The elder crawled over the pair, thrusting his shaft past her lips into her mouth, clawed hands pulling her head up so that she was forced to take the entire thing, nose pressed up against the furry patch between his legs. She glanced towards the alpha, whose impressive member was sliding from the sheath. He ran his hands over it, as if taunting her, then moved to his knees and poised it at her entrance. She cried out as he slammed into her, sending the elder reeling as her voice sent vibrations through his hardened length. Her thoughts became jumbled, unaware of anything but the three cocks pumping into her and the teeth and claws that tore at her skin, tongues smoothing over the bloody scratches. The wolves came together, howling as they filled her with their cum, the warm liquid overflowing out of her. She came then, a quivering whimpering ball, her own juices flooding around the alpha's length. They lay with her awhile, licking her and themselves clean. Then they left, as they always did. She lay until almost sunrise before standing shakily and wrapping her cloak around her, returning to the manor. Janine looked her over and smiled.

"You are truly a Sister of the Wolves," she said proudly. Renee bowed somewhat stiffly, then wandered to her chambers for a long hot bath.

As the only Sister capable of taming the wolves each month, Renee headed out each full moon, as healed as she was going to get and they soon looked forward to seeing their masochistic little fuck toy. She bought a small house in the village when she turned nineteen and gave the excuse to the villagers that she was going to visit her grandmother when she left for each full moon. Even her father no longer recognized the beautiful and mysterious Renee du Lac who had supposedly come from Paris in search of a smaller mountain home. She had certainly found it in their village. On a warm July evening, the night of the full moon, she headed out towards the clearing, dressed in the elegant red cloak. It was that night that she met Tyson, out in the woods chopping wood to heat his small cabin.

"Miss, are you lost?" the man asked as she walked past him. Renee turned to face him.

"Not at all Sir," she said politely, turning to continue on her way. He slammed the ax into a log and hurried after her, fingers wrapping gently around her arm.

"These woods are very dangerous," he said, voice full of genuine worry, "are you sure you want to be wandering through them at night?" Renee looked into the chocolate eyes that watched her with such concern and smiled softly.

"Sir, I am most capable of protecting myself," she said, detaching his hand from her arm. She walked west instead of north towards the clearing, hoping to throw him off her trail. He called after her.

"What's your name?" She smiled again.

"Renee du Lac," she called over her shoulder. He watched as she disappeared into the trees, then brushed straight black hair away from his eyes as he returned to his task.

Renee glanced over her shoulder before entering the clearing and shedding her cloak. There was no longer need for the old words, the wolves knew her scent now and simply silenced her when she tried to speak them. That evening as they took her, she couldn't help but think about the strange woodcutter. For the first time in her entire life, Renee wished she led a normal life. As she wandered home the next morning, cloak clutched tightly about her shoulders, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely thought of her evening with the wolves. She slipped inside and shut the door, going upstairs to sleep.

She was awakened that afternoon by a persistent knocking upon her door. She quickly pulled on a robe over her night attire and hurried down the stairs. The dark haired woodcutter stood before her, hand poised to knock again. He dropped his arm.

"Uh... hi," he stammered, "I'm, erm, Tyson." She smiled.

"Hello again Tyson," she laughed. "Would you like to come in?" He nodded and allowed her to lead him into the luxurious living area, settling in a plush chair of dark blue crushed velvet.

"Make yourself comfortable," she offered. "I just have to change into something less... well, yes," she flushed. They stared at each other a moment, then she hurried up the stairs to change. She picked out a simple gown of pale blue and pulled it on, her maid helping her lace it up at the front. She added a touch of rouge to her lips and looked at the chubby woman.

"What do you think Millie?" she asked, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. The woman smiled.

"Beautiful as usual Miss Renee." Renee kissed her cheek.

"Could you make up some tea and bring it into the living room please Millie darling," she asked as she hurried down the stairs, though she stopped, composed herself and walked calmly into the room, seating herself beside him.

"Comfortable?" she asked Tyson. He jumped, then nodded, having leaned back in the chair, almost asleep. He was wearing simple pants and an animal skin vest that left much of his tanned (and deliciously muscular) chest available to view. Renee couldn't help but blush. She had never been attracted to someone in such a way. They looked at each other a moment, then Tyson pulled her out of her chair and into his lap, lips pressed against hers in a fierce kiss, spreading warmth through her entire body. She pressed against him, eyes closed, caught up in the intensity between them. He lifted her up in strong arms and carried her up the stairs, finding her bedroom with ease. Millie peeked out of the kitchen.

"I'll put the tea away," she murmured, grinning at her Mistresses fortune.

Tyson lay Renee down on the massive canopy bed and crawled on beside her, drawing the curtains closed and leaning down to kiss her again. She slid his vest off as he tugged at the laces of her dress, sliding it down off her upper body, then helping her remove it completely. She watched him quietly as he stared in awe at the beauty beneath him before kissing her once more then moving his lips almost frantically down across her neck. He drew a stiffened nipple into his mouth, suckling gently on it. She moaned softly, his soft touches arousing her as much as the violence offered by the wolves. He didn't seem concerned with the wounds, instead tending each of them with soft kisses before moving his mouth to the opposite nipple and offering it the same attention. She squirmed and started to move her hand down towards her warmth. To her surprise, he caught her hand and used the ties that usually held her curtains back, to secure her hands and feet to the bedposts. He knotted them carefully, giving her some movement, but not enough to count. Then his lips returned to her chest, slowly working lower as his fingers gently massaged their way up her legs.

As they brushed over her thighs and his lips moved down past her belly button, she became more anxious, squirming beneath his touch. His lips made brief contact with her slit before his fingers spread her lips open so that he could probe gently with his tongue along the wetted folds. Gasping, Renee lifted her hips as if offering herself to him, and he eagerly accepted the invitation, plunging his tongue within her soft pussy to taste her. Two fingers found her clit and massaged it firmly as he explored her inner walls with his tongue. She gasped and moaned, squirming as much as the bonds would allow. She'd had no idea of the pleasures a man's mouth could bring her, for the wolves simply took what they needed of her, which she also enjoyed, but this. It was beyond words. She felt like she was floating when she reached climax, startled that he had yet to penetrate her. He lapped up her fluids and drew up to kiss her gently. She could taste herself on his lips, which only brought her to a higher level of arousal. She wanted him in her and she told him so quickly.

He grinned as he removed his pants to reveal a fully hard and fully human length. She stared at it in awe a moment. It was much smaller than the wolves, but still, quite nice to look at and she squirmed in anticipation. He placed his hands on either side of her chest and guided his head to the entrance of her pussy, then thrust in with one smooth movement. He lifted her hips slightly, kneeling between her legs as he pumped into her, fingers grasping her hips gently. When he exploded within her, she reeled with the powerful quakes of her second orgasm. He stayed within her a moment, still pumping in and out, though more slowly, and less out than in. She felt him go limp slowly and he withdrew, untying her and curling up under the silky sheets with her. She kissed his chest gently as they began to drift off; arms wrapped around each other.

Renee was startled that evening to awake with a man in her bed. She jerked up, wrapping her sheet around her chest and staring down at the handsome creature laying next to her. Finally she remembered and leaned down to kiss Tyson, who awoke and drew her against his chest, lips tender against hers. They dressed leisurely and went downstairs, where Millie, as if sensing their awakening, had prepared a massive dinner, food enough to feed and army, and if Renee knew her maid, then there was a pie in the oven for dessert. She ate a little, merely happy to watch Tyson eat, and he certainly ate a lot. She had always eaten alone, or perhaps with Millie, but to have a man in the house, moving as if he lived there with her, was sheer heaven. Curious, she asked him about his own home.

"You know the cottage in the woods, by Wolfe Manor?" he asked. She nodded. The man who had lived there had been a carver and had sent gifts to the training children at Christmas. Thinking back, she thought she recalled a boy with Tyson's sun-bleached hair coming with him one summer to fix a chair.

"You're Maurice's son!" she declared, surprised that she had remembered. He nodded.

"You knew him?" he questioned. Renee nodded.

"I lived at Wolfe Manor until I was nineteen," she smiled softly, recalling her old tutors. Tyson nodded.

"I thought as much," he murmured. Renee glanced up.

"What do you mean?"

"My father," he began, hesitating, "he spoke with one of the sisters and she told him about what their task was... what the girls' task would one day be. And he told me. He told me everything when I was a lad." Renee flushed.

"I'd have thought you'd hate me for what I do," she whispered, taking a small bite of ham. He shook his head.

"I always admired the bravery of someone who could go take the beatings of three grown weres and live to tell of it because she trusted them. Women don't get nearly enough credit," he teased gently. She giggled, then moved to sit in his lap. Millie cleared the table, not even asking if they wanted the freshly baked pie that was waiting in the oven. They were too busy talking softly between gentle kisses.

The town was full of talk about Miss du Lac's new lover, a handsome man who lived just outside the town. They had been seen in public, at the small theatre and a few taverns, visiting the locals. She had told one barkeep recently that they had been seeing each other for six months now.

*



It was the seventh full moon since Renee had started seeing Tyson and she lay in bed, completely oblivious to the fact that she was supposed to be out in the clearing that night. He had just asked her hand in marriage and she was so overwhelmed by the suggestion. At her promise of yes, they had tumbled back into bed in a fit of passion, his smooth thrusts drawing her delighted cries of joy. Tyson didn't usually come to her on the full moons, but that night he had been so eager to ask her his question, that he couldn't contain himself, and came to her house as soon as he got up the nerve. It was the screams that woke them and Renee's eyes snapped open. She ran to the window overlooking the village to find three massive wolf-men stalking through the streets. She screamed, though none but Tyson heard, as the largest, the black, scooped a child out of its mothers arms and devoured it. Renee jerked from Tyson's arms and ran to grab her cloak, before hurrying down the stairs, drawing it on over her naked body. She hurried into the streets, looking for signs of the wolves, while Tyson stared in terror out the window as the woman he loved disappeared into an alley.

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