The Beasts of Blacktangle Forest

Oh God, what is that?

Desmond spoke up, his voice full of the same fear.

"Mar-Mar-Mar-Mmmmm..."

"Speak up, Des," Martin said dismissively.

The figure leapt. Bridget closed her eyes.

A strong impact violently wrenched Martin away from her, making her stumble. A warm spray spurted across her face and breasts.

She timidly opened her eyes.

Martin lay a few yards away, slumped on the ground, his neck bent awkwardly. The figure shambled towards him on all fours.

Bridget ran. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Desmond take off in the opposite direction.

I still have no idea where I'm going...

The burning started up again, her chest and sides miniature forges. More branches smacked at her here and here, her already tattered and dirtied clothing tearing in other places. Her feet ached, exerted in an unfamiliar manner. A chilly wind kicked up, teasing her exposed breasts and cooling the spent tears and fresh blood on her face.

A scream cut through the air.

She pressed on, ignoring her body's complaints, the fear lending her a little more stamina. The tall, twisted trees bore silent testament to her flight.

I must be so deep in the forest. Miles away from safety. Or even the road.

She glanced over her shoulder.

The figure loped along to her right. She could see its face now, unmistakably canine, with tufted ears, a shaggy mane, a thick snout, and gleaming eyes. A whimper spilled out in between her frantic breaths.

A loud rustling to her left made her look over. A second wolf emerged from a thicket of bushes and fell into the same pace as the first.

She whimpered again, her body beginning to tire and wane, the burst of stamina not enough.

Her foot caught again on something, sending her flying forward and crashing to the ground in a heap of dirt and leaves, one of her shoes flinging off.

She laid there, her head buzzing from the pain and fatigue, her senses scrambled for a few precious seconds.

When her eyes refocused, she saw the wolves walking towards her, sniffing curiously.

A small sob spilled from her. Tears of despair followed. She curled into a ball, drained of energy and will. Her father came to mind.

Who'll take care of him?

The wolves stopped around her. One nudged her with a cold nose. She sniffled pitifully.

If you're going to eat me, just eat me...

The other wolf came closer on her other side. She shut her eyes tightly.

Another cold nose forced her over onto her back. She did not fight, only awaiting a painful death.

A wet warmth rubbed over her cheek.

She opened her eyes. The wolf licked her again, easily wiping away her tears and Martin's blood. She stayed still, letting it lick a few more times, the surprising gentleness confusing.

Maybe...they're not going to eat me? Or are they just cleaning me up before they eat me?

The wolf interrupted her thoughts with a lick at her breasts.

She squealed in surprise, her back arching. The wolf growled, showing off jagged, sharp teeth. The squeal turned into a whimper. Goosebumps prickled her skin.

The wolf licked again, rasping over her stiff nipples. She moaned, squirming slightly. The wolf recoiled, and bared its teeth again, silently this time, but then simply sniffed at her. She swallowed nervously, doing her best to stay still.

More licks followed, cleaning up the rest of Martin's blood, leaving dribbles of saliva all over. Several licks teased over her nipples. A strange feeling jolted in her belly, a twisted sort of pleasure. She glanced over to the other wolf, who was watching her closely.

The licks stopped. The wolf sniffed again, and then shoved its nose in between her legs.

"Wait!" she shrieked, grabbing at its mane, the shaggy fur unexpectedly soft.

The wolf wheeled around, snarling right in her face, eyes flashing, teeth bared. She whimpered again, staring straight into that menacing gaze, seeing a certain intelligence there, a limited understanding of sorts. The wolf settled a huge paw on her stomach. Deadly claws curved out from hidden sheaths, digging ever-so-lightly into her skin, only to then immediately slide back inside. The display sent a surprisingly direct message.

If they wanted to hurt me, they would've already...

She took a deep breath, calming herself in the face of this bizarre situation.

The wolf growled, almost with an air of satisfaction, and then shoved its nose back in between her legs.

Blasts of warm breath tickled her sex from its sniffing.

The wolf licked. She moaned, unable to stop her hips from hitching. The wolf licked more, its tongue dragging over her slit, offering an undeniably alluring sensation. The same strange feelings jolted in her belly. She laid there on the forest floor, watching the wolf slurp away at her sex. The sounds grew slicker, and she realized that juices were beginning to flow, this beast easily arousing her.

Shame grew from the insane thought. Every moan or shiver added to it. A deviant delight grew as well, her body again reacting with no thought to the context. The wolf hungrily lapped up her juices, its tongue occasionally pressing at her slit, teasing penetration.

The shame and the delight climbed higher together. A heady blush burned across her skin. The wolf kept up the potent pleasure, and soon, orgasm approached.

I know I shouldn't be enjoying this...but I can't help it.

Her hips rolled against that eager tongue, helping its efforts.

The orgasm struck. She bucked, moaning yet again, the depraved sound loud in the otherwise quiet evening air. A wicked bliss washed over her, soothing the aches and pains, clearing her mind of worry or shame or fear. The wolf did not stop licking, sending her straight into a second orgasm. The moan faded to a gasp, her eyes widening.

A third orgasm left her swooning on the ground, stroking in mindless gratitude at the wolf's mane.

The licking stopped. The wolf stepped back.

She squirmed, overwhelmed by a jumble of intense, confusing sensations.

The wolf nudged at her thigh.

She looked down, and let out another moan, full of an instinctive, lewd desire.

A monstrous shaft arced up from in between the wolf's legs, angry red and thick.

Another jolt fired in her belly.

The shame returned, but it was weaker, not nearly as powerful as the need bubbling up inside her.

She was well aware that this was a beast, a dangerous, wild creature, and that any sort of carnal relations with it would be a damnable taboo.

But they did save me from Martin, and they didn't hurt me when they easily could've.

She turned over onto all fours and pulled her skirt and what was left of her shift up over her hips. The blush returned, blazing hotter from the thought of how she was readily exposing her womanhood to this wolf. The thought was not provoked by shame, however, but excitement.

The wolf pounced, its furry, heavy frame settling atop her, knocking a breath from her.

The shaft met her slit, rubbing delicately there, greeted by streams of slick juices. She gasped, concern springing up from the brutish mismatch in size. Only her fingers, and a lucky summer squash on a particularly curious night some months ago, had ever been inside her before. Neither were close to the size of the shaft, nor could she match the strength and savagery the wolf could bring to bear.

A firm yet gentle push popped her slit open, the first inch shoving inside, knocking another breath from her. She hung her head, her hands curling into tight fists.

The wolf pressed its hips on hers, sinking deeper, forcing her slit to stretch further. Her eyes rolled in their sockets from the unfamiliar sensation. She fell silent, her voice strained. The wolf growled, the assertive rumble pulsing from his chest down onto her back through her tattered clothes, offering unexpected comfort.

The shaft dragged back slowly, rubbing along her channel, another unfamiliar sensation. She shivered, unable to gather her thoughts, her mind murky.

The wolf eased forward. Her voice came back, a grunt slipping out, discomfort arising from feeling the prodigious shaft carve a path through her snug cunt.

The shaft dragged back slowly again. The wolf nuzzled at her shoulder.

She glanced back and locked eyes with it. That certain intelligence surfaced. A fierce desire bubbled underneath it, clashing with the wolf's deliberate motions. Another growl rumbled, the sound somehow pleasant, helping to assuage her concerns.

The wolf pressed its hips on hers. The shaft pushed deeper, a steady advance, her abundant juices helping with the endeavor. The wolf nuzzled at her shoulder again, displaying an almost romantic tenderness. She stared into its dark eyes, confused yet comforted.

It's like it knows what to do. Like it's done this sort of thing before...

Every slow retreat, every steady advance, helped her adjust to and accommodate more of that massive, throbbing shaft. She groaned, her arms and legs trembling. Pleasure unfurled over her figure, providing a balm for the discomfort.

The next steady advance sank every inch of the shaft inside Bridget, her cunt torn open thoroughly and methodically.

She whimpered, toes curling, fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms.

The wolf nuzzled at her shoulder. She could not help but nuzzle back, appreciating how its soft, shaggy fur soothed her sore, sweaty skin.

The shaft dragged carefully back through her channel, until the first inch or so remained inside her. It stayed there, keeping her slit stretched out, trickles of her juices dripping from the shaft onto her thighs. The wolf wrapped a leg under her midsection, bringing its fur directly against her stiff nipples, another soothing sensation.

A swing of its hips drove its cock deep, juices squelching out wetly around the thrust.

Bridget cried out, shoved forward but easily corralled by the beast. A second later, the cry cut off, and she bleated mindlessly, acutely feeling every thick inch sitting imperiously inside her tender cunt. Another growl reverberated into her back, calming the instinct to squirm away. The wolf swung its hips back, its cock rubbing swiftly over the walls of her channel. Her eyes rolled, her other shoe falling off from a spasmodic kick, her toes curling again in the dirt.

Over the next few seconds, any romance or tenderness disappeared.

The wolf rutted furiously. The moonlit forest echoed with her cries. There was little fear or panic in them. The pleasure rose. Bridget took the onslaught in the wolf's grip, almost overwhelmed but for the comfort of its furry embrace and the sense of security of its presence atop and inside her.

The forcefulness quickly knocked her off all fours and onto her stomach. The wolf adjusted, keeping her close, its heavy frame and rapid thrusts pinning her to the ground. The cries dwindled into more mindless bleats. She felt herself slacken, her concerns utterly vanishing. The wolf seemed to sense that change, its next growl holding tones of approval. Powerful jaws closed around her shoulder, but did not bite down hard, simply meeting her submissiveness with possessiveness.

Bridget came, bucking weakly. The massive shaft kept plowing deep. The discomfort dissipated, but strain was still across her face from the exertion of taking the vigorous rutting. She fell silent, eyes wide, muscles tensing, a vein standing out on her forehead.

The thrusts did not stop, pushing her straight into another orgasm. Juices flowed and sweat beaded, the heat of passion in full blaze.

Something large and bulbous smacked against her slit at the apex of the next thrust. She squealed, caught off guard. The ecstasy evaporated. The next thrust brought the same frightful collision. She tried to squirm away, a new fear firing over her at the size of this new something, her slit already stretched enough.

The wolf bit down on her shoulder just enough to draw her attention away from the fear. Another growl rumbled. The velvety sound seemed to seep into her skin, calming her squirming.

He's not going to hurt me. I should stay still.

She mewled apologetically. The mewl spiked into a squeal at the next thrust, the something slapping rudely into her slit.

Dimly, she remembered the time she had come upon two dogs mating at the edge of the village. A nearby vagrant had quite creepily explained the scene to her, taking too much glee in telling the red-faced Bridget about the knot the male used to keep the bitch in place for breeding.

A lewd moan spilled from her at the memory. The moan became another squeal when the knot next smacked at her slit. The wolf pumped his hips, determined to fully open her up.

I'll be his bitch if he knots me. A wolf's bitch.

The thought made her shiver. She realized then that her hips were working back feebly against the thrusts. The wolf took his mouth off her and nuzzled at her neck.

"Please," she murmured, admitting what her body had already confessed.

The wolf pounded his knot squarely into her drenched slit, sending little splatters around to add to the wetness coating her thighs.

"Please..."

The wolf added more force to his thrusts. She cried out, eyes fluttering. The pleasure spiked back towards orgasm. She began to speak, to beg again for him to drive his knot into place inside her, but realized words were useless.

There are other ways to show him how much I need it...

She whimpered, the sound entirely intentional, a willing and eager descent into utter depravity. The wolf nuzzled at her neck again in an attempt to pacify her impatience.

At the apex of the next thrust, he ground his hips against hers to add pressure. Her eyes fluttered again. The next few thrusts ended the same way. Her slit slowly but surely gave way to his fierce efforts.

The knot popped inside her on the next thrust. She stiffened sharply, the pleasure roaring from the satisfaction of taking the knot. The wolf adjusted himself again to settle atop her, and worked his hips as best as possible, firing off short jabs, his knot rubbing over the walls of her overwhelmed channel.

Bridget came, quiet and breathless underneath him, her muscles tensing and straining. The wolf claimed her neck in his mouth, his slaver trickling hotly over her skin, his teeth careful yet unmistakable, an intimate, precarious embrace. A few more jabs rocked her helpless figure.

A potent pulse ran along his cock. She moaned, feeling a warmth bloom down in her core, a vigorous, visceral surge of heat. More pulses were followed by more surges, her eyes widening, her lips slackening, her toes curling.

The reality of this bizarre yet delightful situation set in through the delirious haze.

He knotted me and now he's breeding me.

She mewled, shivering from the barrage of stimulation. The tease of sharp teeth on her skin sent thrills over her. His fur rubbed relentlessly over her nipples. The knot kept her slit gaped, making sure his hips were flush against hers and his cock was buried inside her. The most insistent, most mind-numbing, most wondrous sensation, however, came from the sizzling spurts of seed roaring through her channel, racing towards her womb in an attempt to fill it with some ungodly offspring.

I'm his bitch. He made me his bitch.

Another orgasm washed over her as if spurred by the thought. She purred, her cunt clutching at his cock, coaxing out more spurts. The growing heat sloshed inside her, a rich, decadent reward for her submission.

The wolf took his teeth off her neck. The orgasm dwindled along with the spurts.

Soon, the afterglow settled into place. The wolf adjusted his position again, moving back slightly to take some of his weight off her. All she could do was lie there, the heady warmth pooled deep inside her.

The afterglow dwindled next. Aches and discomfort announced their presences. Bridget did not mind them, glad for this result, her womanhood thoroughly fucked and filled with seed. The wolf did not move much, besides nuzzling at her shoulder and licking at her cheek and neck, offering comfort and support to his bitch.

The knot slowly deflated. The unlikely couple laid there, nuzzling and caressing.

The first time the wolf tried to slip the knot out, she groaned weakly, the bulbous swell pulling uncomfortably at her channel. The wolf tried a few more times over the following few minutes, making sure to move carefully to limit her discomfort.

The knot finally popped free. She mewled, a breeze tickling her ravaged slit, the cool air a stark contrast to the warm cock and knot. The wolf moved off her. She stretched out gingerly, the aches and discomfort a bit stronger now.

Scuffling sounds came from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder.

The wolf reared up, deliberately and ominously, showing off the entirety of his formidable frame. Her eyes widened at the sight, the animal on four legs becoming a monster on two. An undercurrent of fear trickled through her.

The stories of monsters in Blacktangle Forest...looks like they're true.

He stared down at her, eyes glimmering in the moonlight.

The fear was immediately diluted by the lingering heat in her core.

Whatever sort of monster he is, he won't hurt me.

He tilted his head up.

A howl tore from his throat, the loud, eerie, spine-tingling wail echoing through the forest, the dreadful power making her ears ring. She shivered meekly in the face of that display, terribly aware she was his bred bitch now, bent to his desires.

Two more howls went up in response. She looked behind the wolf and saw two more, both on two legs, heads canted back, fur rippling.

The first wolf went back on four legs, and after a nuzzle at her thigh, loped away.

A second wolf approached on two legs. The third stood nearby, watching intently.

A massive paw landed on her hip and turned her onto her back. An intensely lustful gaze raked over the swathes of skin exposed by her tattered clothes. Her eyes were drawn in turn to his cock, the imposing shaft twitching impatiently. Her channel clutched, suddenly needy again, responding to that sight.

The wolf knelt between her legs, and Bridget understood.

I'm not just HIS bitch. I'm THEIR bitch.

She spread her legs.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Moonlight pierced through the treetops here and there, pricking the forest floor with thin lances of bright, silvery illumination. Bridget took in the dark woods around her, far from what she once would have called safety, yet safe from any danger in the wolf's arms. His pace did not jar her too much, the ride comfortable even with her myriad aches thanks to his soft fur cocooning her.

The second wolf had rutted her quite viciously into the dirt. She had simply lain there, locking eyes with his beastly visage, mewling and bleating. The third wolf had given her a few minutes to rest, but her neediness had surged again solely from his proximity, leading to pitiful whimpers and restless squirming. His restraint had quickly flagged, and soon enough, he had pounced, putting her back onto her hands and knees before plunging inside her. The ecstasy had been plentiful, each knotting and breeding provoking orgasms on their own. The third wolf had given her a few minutes again to rest after his turn, and then had simply picked her up and loped off.

She sent a hand creeping in between her legs. Three raring cocks, three bulbous knots, and three thrilling gifts of fresh wolf seed had left her cunt aching, her womb full, and her body humming with a satisfaction that helped soothe any soreness. A steady stream of all that combined seed flowed out to mat down the wolf's fur, bearing a strong scent that wafted invitingly into her nose.