Goodbye

Author's Note: I felt like making a short, stupid little story with a predictable and pointless plot. Here it is.

*****

Her husband was angry.

And she was so upset.

He'd said these things. "What do you mean you can't find it?! Why can't you support me?! What kind of wife are you?! Can't even find one stupid thing?!"

So very upset, and so cold.

"I don't want anything to do with you!! You can walk home!!"

He'd literally dragged her out of the wagon and thrown her onto the hard, frigid dirt road. Whenever she tried to get up, he'd only shove her back down. The last push had her hurting her foot a bit. That gave him enough time to get back in the wagon and direct the horse onward.

Reaching out, the woman screamed and faltered a few steps ahead, but she couldn't catch up. The wagon was hauled away.

Cerisa collapsed on the road as disbelief soaked through her body. Snow began to fall, dusting her fur-lined, hooded cloak.

He'd change his mind eventually. That's how he was. He was the most inconsistent person she'd ever known. Once, he was so angry that he told her to pack up her things go to the closest brothel, since that all she was good for, according to him. Cerisa had been so angry that she assumed life in a brothel would be better than dealing with her husband. So she obediently gathered her luggage and headed for their home's door. Her husband blocked her and said she wasn't going anywhere.

"You just told me to go!" she'd blurted out.

"I know," he'd said with an almost defeated tone, his body oddly off-kilter, his breath reeking of alcohol, "but come to bed. It's late."

One night, he'd cheerfully offered her a slice of rare spicy cake, and he said it was all for her. So, Cerisa thanked him and ate it. The next morning, he denied he'd ever offered the cake to her, and he screamed at her because he'd wanted to eat it.

Trembling in the cold, Cerisa thought to herself that her husband would change his mind and collect her soon. It would be best not to go far. She limped on over to a tree, which wasn't much of a distance since there were trees on both sides of the road, and she leaned against the bark.

Rotating her ankle, working out the mild pain, Cerisa wondered if her pride, stubbornness, and anger could make freezing to death more bearable. After all, her husband would return, and she thought she might refuse him. How dare he abandon her over a stupid, petty thing that he'd lost?! How dare he even blame her for not being able to find the thing?! Whenever he did come back, she'd probably look up at his apologetic face and spit.

Her shoulders drooped.

Maybe she wouldn't do that, but she did want to vent her feelings ... somehow.

Wouldn't it be horrifying if a gang of bandits came after her?!

And it would be all his fault, too.

When he returned, Cerisa would tell him that. Bandits could come and do all the bad things they'd normally do. It would be an example to show how shameful, how pathetic, how pointless he was as a man. To actually leave his wife so vulnerable!

A few minutes more, and Cerisa's mind gave in. She hated this cold. She wanted to go home. She wanted her husband to hug her and say everything was fine.

But something happened, tossing all those thoughts out of her mind and replacing them with confused panic.

It was so quick that she didn't know what was happening at first.

An iron-like force swooped down in a flash, curling around her waist and dragging her away from the tree. Even through her cloak, her pale blue traveling gown, and her chemise, she felt a scraping against the bark.

Of course, Cerisa hollered and flailed. As she was carried off, she was able to notice some details, although her hysteria kept her from taking very much in.

The bare trees whizzing by. The distant sound of running water, likely from a river. Heavy footsteps beneath her. Her body wriggling against something dense and furry.

As for what was pinning her against the furry thing, that was something else, but it was also furry. And white.

It was ... an arm?!

No.

They didn't truly exist, did they?!

Whether they did or not, Cerisa wasn't about to soften up. She kicked and scratched, even though her gloves likely dulled whatever effect her short fingernails would have.

Panting breaths, they didn't belong to her. They were above her, and she felt it in the body she was held against. She smelled the fur, a bit of saliva, and an odd musk.

The creature holding her seemed to slow down when they were close to a peculiar pile of rocks and boulders that was under a tree with thick branches. Or rather, the pile seemed peculiar to Cerisa. As the creature approached the pile, a second arm reached for one of the larger rocks. Cerisa saw what seemed to be a hand, fingers and thumb and all, only it was furry with black padding on the palm and black claws where fingernails should be. The creature gripped the rock and pushed it aside, making a heavy noise as it swept snow away.

A tunnel?

It was so dark!

Her captor pulled the rock back in place once they were inside that tunnel, leaving a crack that a small animal would be able to push through, a sliver of daylight.

At this point, Cerisa was exhausted, and her throat was painfully hoarse. She knew she was weak. She wished it wasn't so.

The dirt floor ... it was sloping down!!

At the end of the tunnel, which seemed fairly long to Cerisa, there was a large, round room that was clearly underground. There were very simple torch lamps close to the walls, as if the owner of this den was afraid of accidentally knocking the fire into something. And so, the center was a bit dim in comparison. Cerisa was still able to see what was there, however.

A very large pallet of various animal furs. There were even tightly rolled bits of fur tied closed. They'd make lovely pillows. Also, a small frame displaying various tools and weapons, a canvas bag with straps, and several clay pots with lids.

It was significantly warmer under the ground than above.

But Cerisa was still trembling.

And her throat seemed to constrict.

She coughed and gasped.

Cerisa's body was lowered, and the arm let her slide down to the pallet. Immediately, she crawled off all the furs and went to the nearest wall. She spun around and pressed her back against that wall, hacking and desperately trying to produce some saliva.

Her dark brown eyes widened as she took in her captor's appearance.

It was exactly as she'd feared.

A Wolf Man.

Tall, the white fur turning almost golden in the firelight, a menacing thing. It was heavy and thick but there was still the vaguely inverted triangle of a shape in the body. Long legs with inhuman feet and black claws. The head was mostly shaped like a wolf's ... mostly ... perhaps a bit shorter in the muzzle. He certainly had pointed ears.

The eyes ... they seemed amber colored, almost glowing.

And he was staring at her.

But then he blinked.

And he walked away from her. He had a tail, a long fluffy tail that was wagging a little.

Why wasn't he pouncing and eating chunks of her flesh?!

The Wolf Man's claws scraped against the tightly packed dirt floor as he went over to the canvas bag. He didn't tear the bag apart, as Cerisa had first assumed he might do. He unbuckled the flap of a lid as any human would, and then he rummaged through the thing. He pulled out a round leather flask. It looked so small in his grasp.

He stepped back towards her.

Cerisa was still coughing.

She wanted to run, but ...

She was stupidly curious.

The Wolf Man literally knelt down on one knee, and he held the flask out to her.

Cerisa would've said what or huh but all she could do was put her gloved hand to her throat and continue struggling.

He shook the flask. The wet noise of liquid sloshing rang out in the quiet air.

Well ... why would he bother poisoning her if he could simply eat her?

Damn it, she was thirsty!!

Cerisa took the flask and popped it open. Her head tilted back as water flowed down and soothed her poor throat. She gave a long, almost gratified exhale and wiped her lips with her sleeve.

The creature's black nose flexed as it curiously sniffed, and he reached out, padded palm upwards. He must have wanted the flask. Cerisa gingerly held it out. Her arm wasn't steady at all.

He swiped the flask away and went on back to his bag to put it back inside.

And Cerisa squeaked out a question.

"What do you want?"

The flask was in the bag. The Wolf Man closed the bag and left it alone.

His spine seemed to tilt as his beastly head turned back. He was staring at her again.

The ears perked up. His tail rose slightly, straight and alert.

Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything?

The muzzle parted. The long, sharp teeth glistened.

Cerisa stood up. Her legs tingled as she prepared to run. When he suddenly dashed toward her, she tried to do just that, but his long arms caught her, knocking her breath out. Then she was on the furs. They were sinfully comfortable.

She made a frightened, tangled noise as she tried to get up, her back soon missing the soft furs even with her clothing between them. She saw a long tongue slip and dangle out from the creature's muzzle. It didn't look like a wolf's tongue. It was far too human.

A paw went to her sternum, pinning her down. It didn't hurt, but it didn't exactly calm her down.

Cerisa's voice shot up to the inhuman face. "Stop ... stop!!" She was close to weeping. Her hands gripped the arm that held her down. She started kicking, but her legs and feet weren't strong enough to damage him.

Closer, closer ... no ... please!!

Lick!!

Her pupils shrank.

The beast's muzzle had poked into her hood, the hot breath tickling her dark hair and delicate flesh. Then his tongue had pressed against her throat and slid all the way to her ear.

"What?! No!!" Cerisa squirmed and tried to get out of the tongue's path. No good. The beast licked her again, this time on her cheek and forehead. Some of her hair was moistened with saliva, and it stuck up like a cowlick. Her hood fell back and bunched up.

It didn't stop.

Lick after lick, leaving cooling streams of saliva, fast and almost ... giddy. His spare hand slithered over her clothes.

Then that hand went ... under ... under her skirts!!

Cerisa screamed again.

That tongue went right into her mouth.

Bite, she told herself, Bite!! Bite hard!!

But what if he turned so enraged that he scratched her face off or bit into her throat?!

As the heavy, wild scents overwhelmed her, as the slick organ danced in her mouth and tapped her teeth, Cerisa whined and scratched at the arm holding her down.

The tips of his claws only lightly touched her wool stockings as his free hand slid up and down her leg. She didn't feel any skin breaking, but she whined nonetheless.

Wishing she could hide from the beast's gaze, she closed her eyes.

The tongue left. Cerisa turned her head to one side. Her hands went to her face. Her gloves did their best to soak up the saliva as she wiped at her skin.

More animalistic sniffing, and her skirts were being pushed down past her waist.

It's ... it's fine. That's what she told herself. She'd had uncomfortable sex before. Most sex with her husband was dry and painful, and she couldn't ever give a suggestion on how to do better without him taking serious offense.

Just let him do whatever he wanted. Don't rile him up!

The air soon kissed her fragile, frightened little cunt. Then, there was fur and heat. It pushed on her as her legs were held up. Her thighs were gripped. Her flesh felt the rough pads and the little dots of pressure from the claws, but the pressure was light. Her legs were vibrating. Her teeth tugged on one of her gloves.

Sad little whimpers from a nearly petrified woman.

Huffing breaths and little growls from a beast.

But ... but the great hairy body was shifting, moving down, and her lower body was pulled up.

No ... why would a Wolf Man ever ...?

The rapid sniffing, it was so brutal, so mismatched with the moment. Air passed back and forth over her cunt. Her muscles there convulsed. Her labia seemed to bloom open, and she hated that.

More of her glove was chewed on. Her finger struggled in the tightening fabric.

It skated right over her opening, nearly hiding that cunt for a moment.

That thick, insistent tongue!

Inside her leather shoes, which had been stuffed with straw and fur, Cerisa's toes nearly broke. That's how hard they curled.

The Wolf Man's voice rumbled deep into her, seeming to reach even into her spasming passage.

Denial was deep in Cerisa's bones and brain. She was willing to believe a Wolf Man wanted to have his way with her. She wasn't willing to believe her body was reacting so well.

Again, and again, and again, and why oh why was this so lovely? Why did this beast call her blood to rush and thrive in the flesh he lapped up? Why didn't he just bend her over, rut as hard as he could, and finish it?

And every time his tongue finished the route up, the tip flicked on her clitoris, the most sensitive, most demanding part he touched.

"Hn! Hn! Hnnnnnnn!!" She was moaning through her teeth.

Another bit of growling.

Then the tongue changed its course. It didn't lap at the opening.

It pushed through. It licked at her insides. It had her hips jerking and her teeth opening so she could yell out the most idiotic gibberish.

This was so much better than anything her husband ever did!

"Ah!! Ahhhhhh!! Please!! Oh!!"

More and more, her feet kicked the air. She bent her fingers into the furs cushioning their bodies.

And she did something she hadn't done with another man, and certainly not a Wolf Man, in a long time.

She had an orgasm so fierce that the world turned hazy.

Shattering as beautifully as a fallen pane of stained glass.

A hum brimming with favor, that's what Cerisa heard after the tongue dragged out of her.

Heavy arms around torso.

Her legs were on the furs.

The cool nose was nuzzling her throat and shoulder. He didn't just smell like a beast anymore. He also smelled like her.

He was ... holding her ...

When was the last time her husband faced her and wrapped his arms about her during intercourse?

Honestly, in the past three years, there had only been two positions. From behind while laying down, and from behind while she bent over. Both were nice positions, but variety was even better.

Cerisa couldn't help it. She was curious.

Even when she felt the thick shaft sinking into her, she peeked beneath the Wolf Man's chest and belly.

Like a deep red candle sticking out of a pocket.

And it was pushing in and out of her body as if it belonged there.

And it didn't even hurt!

There was a happy little yip at her ear. Then that ear was licked inside and out, which made her shiver.

That's when she said it.

"Fuck me!"

As if he wasn't already doing just that.

The Wolf Man snorted into her neck and licked her again.

Rocking, pushing, pulsing, moist and messy.

Her pussy was selfish. It claimed the visitor with a greedy embrace. You're not leaving until I say so, that sort of logic. Her legs folded as much as they could around the fluffy body. Her arms did much the same. If she could've imprisoned him, she would've done so.

"Fuck me harder! Harder!! You beast!! You absolute beast!!"

It was amazingly tight. Either that cock got bigger or her channel constricted hard. It didn't matter, honestly.

Her back curled. Her covered chest pressed into the creature above.

Oh ... was she pissing? Damn felt like it. Her muscles were cramping hard. But she didn't feel any urine.

One of the Wolf Man's arms left her body so he could press his hand into the furs. He pushed himself up.

And he howled.

It was deep at first, but as it went on it turned high and ...

And ...

Proud?

His hips thrust in so sharply that Cerisa thought she might burst, but it felt so fucking good that she didn't care. Even if she was torn in half, it was all worth it.

No doubt, she was cumming again.

Joining him, howling with him, sweating and crumbling.

***

"Cerisa!! Cerisa!!"

The man was driving his wagon back down the road. It wasn't snowing anymore, but his stomach was painfully cold. He could barely even remember that there had been an argument, but he knew he'd committed a sin against everything. He'd left his woman out in the snow.

One hand holding the horse's reins, the man took another sip of ale from his flask. He thought it was the only thing that could calm him down.

And the only thing that could warm his belly.

In the distance, he saw something odd, so odd that he nearly stopped the horse.

A great white beast on two legs.

A Wolf Man?

He was carrying a person on his back.

A woman with familiar clothing.

Some of her dark hair tumbled out from her hood.

She turned her head and looked at him.

An expression of ... disappointment and malice.

The white beast hurried on, not even bothering to look at the wagon, let alone the man controlling the horse.

They disappeared in the forest within a moment.

Despair cut through his heart.

***

The End