The Howl of the Northern Wolf

"I have never heard of it. What is it?"

"Oh, it is a meal that has to be savored while kneeling. Most of the beautiful women in our Duchy sooner or later are made to kneel before the most noble Duke."

"There is nothing strange in that. Everybody kneels before my father. He is the lord of this land".

"He is only lord where he has the power to be the Lord. While here, in this forest at midnight, it seems to me, señorita, that I am the Lord. People say that the Duke gives commoner women a choice between two options. Both are very good."

"I have never heard of anything like that. What are these options?"

"People say that the Duke invites each pretty newlywed bride to the Grand hall of the Castle. That woman, still in her wedding dress, is made to kneel before their Lord. The Duke approaches her and inspects whether her face is fair, whether her physique is pleasant to his eye.

Then, if he likes her, he unbuttons his trousers and presses his cock against her lips. The youngwife is given a choice: adoration or apology".

"What a filthy slander! "

"All truth, truth, and nothing but the truth. I suppose it's only fair that the Duke's daughter is presented with the same choice. So what is it going to be: adoration or apology?"

"I do not understand what it means. Please... let me go."

"I hear that it's a part of the pleasure for the Duke. Most of the pretty girls kneeling on the floor do not know what to choose either. Those that are lucky, adore Duke's cock right away. Those that choose apology, get whipped. They get to suck Duke's cock later, as an apology."

"Let me go! Help! Help!" I pretend to scream.

"So, Irma, what is it going to be?" Oliver asks me in his meanest scoundrel tone, "adoration or apology?"

"Adoration," I say quietly, "although, apology would be interesting too."

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time," he says. Then he slowly brushes his finger over my lips," I'd like to try an apology with you too. Perhaps, next time. Tonight - it's adoration."

He pulls me by my hair and forces me to kneel down. I see his penis right in front of my face. It is a cock of a starving grizzly bear. He is hungry for my lips and for my mouth, and he is never satisfied easily. I know I will have to make my best to adore him. When I take a mouthful, my grizzly sometimes becomes very capricious. He wants this and he wants that. It is not easy to make him pleased.

I touch the tip of his penis with the tip of my nose. Its head is of dark pink color, similar to the dress that I wore in ballet that night. It is a nice shape that bends back a little. It's big, but it isn't that big. I was exaggerating a bit, because I wanted to impress my friends.

I brush it against my nose. Oliver's penis is moist and smells. It smells like unwashed Oliver's shirts or like his neck scarf. He used to lend me that scarf when I would get cold in the forest. It smells a bit like his armpits and a bit like moldy brie cheese. I know, this kind of smell is supposed to be gross. I can't say that I love it, but every time we make love, I wear it like a perfume. It isn't Oliver's whim. No, it is me who wants to be marked by the man I adore.

I press it and leave a bit of moist trace right behind my right ear, then behind my left ear. That's where I usually put on my perfume. Then I lead it across my neck and down the neckline to the cleavage below.

"You've missed the hollow of your neck," says Oliver.

I take it back to my neck and gently smear the hollow with the sticky moisture. Then I wrap Oliver's penis in a strand of my hair and clean it dry. I know this won't last long. It will be moist again in no time.

"Do women really put a thing like that in their mouths? It's a monstrosity!" - I ask, pretending innocence.

"They do. Some reluctantly, some willingly. And you will do it too, señorita".

"Does my mother do it?"

"She used to. She doesn't anymore." There is a hint of regret in Oliver's voice.

"Why not?"

"Your mom is a formidable woman, Irma. She knows what she wants and she gets what she wants. It is not a good idea to ask her for favors. It's always a terrible price-return ratio."

"Do you miss it?"

"No, I don't miss the never ending negotiation. At the beginning it was fun, but then it became very tiring".

"No, I mean, do you miss... having it in her mouth? Was she good at it?"

"Yes, I miss that a lot. Was she good at it? Well, sex is ninety percent about feelings and only ten percent about technique. When the feelings were there, she was very good. She is a lot like you. She would tease, she would play games, she would joke. I miss that."

"My friend Laima made a very silly joke today."

"What was the joke?"

"She doesn't know about you, but she is jealous that I am happy. I tell my friends that my boyfriend is a grizzly."

"Ha ha, grizzly! You are not lying too much."

"Yeah, it is a kind of guessing game. They keep guessing who that might be. Anyways, Gina, my other friend, was sad tonight. She felt unloved. She asked me if I could hug and give a tender kiss to my grizzly for her. I promised that I would do it."

"Did you do it already?'

"Yeah, I did it earlier".

"I thought there was one strange kiss! Yeah, I think I know which kiss was that. So, what was next?"

"Then my other friend, Laima, made me promise to do something too, without knowing what it was. It was very very stupid."

"So, what did she ask for?"

"I tell you, it was a very silly joke"

"C'mon, c'mon, tell me," my dad is intrigued.

"Well, she said 'Suck his dick for me... just one tender mouthful...'" - I say giggling and covering my mouth.

"One tender mouthful?!? What's wrong with her? What?! I thought she was popular. I thought she was pretty. "-

"Yeah, she is. But she is also a real bitch. That's her kind of a joke. And when she jokes about things like that, I often think that she actually means it. She is jealous that I have a boyfriend who loves me. I think... I think that if she could steal you from me, she would".

"So, will you do it? One tender mouthful... for Laima?"

"I haven't decided yet" - I look at him with a mischievous smile.

***

I have never discussed it with my friends, but if it were the topic - how often a girl should taste her man's sperm - I think my opinion would be mainstream. It shouldn't be a right; it should be a privilege. You should say "no" more often than "yes."

In general, even the most beloved man needs to hear "no" rather often. My dad can always count on me rubbing his shoulder and patting his back. However, him touching my tits or me accepting him inside - that's a privilege.

I think there must be a balance. Too much "yes" is as bad as too much "no."

My mother has a tendency to tilt to the "no" side too much, and therefore her relationship failed. I think she has made an extremely stupid and greedy mistake. She is not going to find better than Oliver. She will end up with much worse.

My mother is not interested in me anymore. She thinks that she's done her job raising me and now her duties are over. She's never asked anything about my sexual life. If she asked, I'd say, "You and I have the same Master, but for me he is really the only one, while you are neglecting your duties. Actually, Mum, you are screwing around like a wolf-bitch. "

I trust only one man with my intimate life, and that is a great joy and a colorful world of beautiful emotions. Only one man gets the indulgence of pulling down my panties and checking whether I am wet. Only one person knows when I am having a period and when are the most fertile days for me to get pregnant.

When I give in - if I give in - there is no question. My vagina, the vagina of a she-wolf, has only one lord and master: the predatory, tyrannical, despotic grizzly's cock. Then it enters me as it pleases - usually roughly; it widens me without mercy when I am tight; it penetrates me as deeply as possible; and then, like a starving bear, it devours and devours and devours me until my vulva is filled with his seed. All I have to do is obey. I - little Irma - move as he makes me move, and my tits sway as he makes them sway, and I howl as he makes me howl.

And also, Mum, you know, Oliver says that I am much more sensual and have an infinitely more creative imagination than you. Besides, my vagina is much tighter, my skin is softer, my breasts are firm and my nipples are as sharp as daggers.

***

It was a really long night tonight. My dad finally collapses on top of me and presses his cheek against mine, breathing heavily.

I lie impaled by the large bear's cock inside me. I feel very tired, but I have to wait until he releases me. When my dad makes love to me, he owns me. He won't let me go yet. I still feel his penis deep inside me. Just a minute ago I could feel it pulsing against my cervix. My bear was growling with every thrust while he shot his seed deep inside me. This time it was even rougher than usual. I think it's because of that wet T-shirt after the pool. And it is also because I kept my promise to Laima. I did for her what she asked me to do. Oliver liked it. It wasn't just one tender... whatever. There were many different ones.

I am sooo tired, but I am sooo happy too. It's heavenly to feel that I'm desired THAT much. When he role plays a bear, it seems he'll break chains and tear down walls - just to get me, just to devour me, just to make love to me.

I raise my hand and touch my dad's hair. He is really very hairy. And his chest, and his belly.

His penis is very hairy too. My little teddy bear.

***

This is my secret, and this is my great happiness.

If anyone feels like pointing out something inappropriate - if anyone feels like condemning, ridiculing, condescending or interfering with my and Oliver's happiness...

... HHRRRHR... HRRRRRHRR...

If you trespass against a woman like me, she most likely will growl a little and smile.

Don't be a fool; make no sudden moves. That smile isn't a smile. She is just getting her teeth ready.

Make just one wrong step into her territory and she will rip your throat out.

********

A FEW FINAL NOTES

All the persons and events in this tale are fictional. None of it is true. However, I hope that the reader felt and thought exactly the opposite.

I apologize for all the inevitable inadequacies of my English. It is a foreign language for me - like a beautiful foreign woman. It is a formidable woman you can love and admire, but you can never hope to master.

In order to avoid confusion, it is worth mentioning that in Lithuania the schooling system is similar to the US, but it takes one extra year to get a high school diploma. Therefore, Irma and her friends are 19, not 18 like you'd expect them to be in the USA.

Many thanks to neuroparenthetical, lonewolf68alpha, Dad Slip, sdc97230 and Master Christian for their fine editing help and generous and insightful comments. You guys were great! Thank you!

And finally:

Dear reader. If you had the patience to read this story from the beginning till the end - you are great.

Now comes the begging part. Please please please, can you give this story a rating and leave a short comment? Both positive and critical comments are invited and appreciated. Feedback really helps the joy of writing. And the joy of reading, too.