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Adults only

Story Codes: Dog+/F, Consensual, BDSM elements

Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
This story begins slowly, as I prefer these days, but picks up speed
quickly enough to suit most readers.

Dare
by Rachael

Chapter 8

I'd nearly forgotten the old man and my appointment with the tribe,
as dogs tend to focus on the more immediate prospects in life. But of
course when Master reminded me, calling me to his side and wrapping a
blanket around me as I stood slowly, stretching and smiling, I
remembered well enough. It was nearly sunset and the full moon was not
yet rising, but it would come, large and yellow over the mountains and
trees.

The Table Rock was a place near what passed as the only town on the
reservation. We traveled mile or two up a narrow path, winding between
great pines that had stood for hundreds of years, leading upward to a
clearing where a natural formation of rock had created a large, odd
shaped platform on the red mountain soil. It was a natural place for
meetings, away from the village and the trappings of even a simple
people like the tribe had been in ages past.

There was a large fire burning in the center and perhaps fifty people,
perhaps more, were gathered around it loosely. Near the fire was a half
circle of men, mostly old, but one or two younger faces as well,
dressed in the traditional clothing of their tribe: deer skin and
animal hides, tanned and decorated and looking primal. There were a
couple totems, big old tree trunks stretching into the night sky,
carved with faces of animals and men, or maybe just half-men,
half-beast faces. It was sort of scary. This was the Council, or so my
Master told me, the elders of the tribe and the persons who would
decide for themselves if Whitecloud was correct.

They were serious and silent and their skin had a reddish glow, like
auras from the fire in front of them. Children danced and sang and
threw branches of dried pine needles onto the blaze so that it would
cackle loudly and a great cloud of sparks would fly into the dark sky.
Shadows moved on the rocks and trees and it was confusing and beautiful
and I felt my heart racing. It was a primal setting and every aspect
seemed to call me to join. My ears were ringing and I licked my lips,
sniffing the air and wished my brothers were with me to enjoy it.

I howled without considering it, only hoping Bandy and the others could
hear my voice. I slipped myself from under the blanket, letting it fall
to the ground and I'll confess that I had little thought of my
Master, which was strange, but forgivable I think. There were voices
inside me, sensations and desires and yearnings. I howled again, moving
towards the fire, walking like a human woman, but behind me shadow
moved like a dog.

I danced with the children, growling and tilting my head towards the
moan, voicing my great joy. The men chanted and women moved silently
around us, bringing wood and water and meat for a feast. There were no
speeches, no incantations or magical spells. No prayers but those we
all sang together across the rhythmic beating of thin doeskin stretched
tight upon the great and ancient hollow logs that ranged around us.

My voice was answered as a wolf heard my sound and answered. He was
coming, he said, he would find me, and I continued my passionate cries
until he was there, a large and wild animal from the uplands. His eyes
glowed yellow and red and he lurked in the shadows, regarding the
Indians with suspicion and fear. He gave sharp barks and his back
bristled, the long silver and black hair around his shoulders and spin
standing stiff as he bared his fangs.

He could smell me, just as I could scent him as well. My sex was
running wild at his approach, wetness running down my thighs,
glistening and feeling cool in the evening air. I was close to the
fire, moving slowly now, languid and cautious, upright at times, and
hunched over at others and finally on my hands and knees. I arched my
back, barking and calling him, the animals musk cutting through the
smoke like a knife, filling my nostrils and bringing my blood to boil
in my veins.

When he came at me it was quick, a dark and grey shape darting into the
light of the fire, his body much larger than mine, heavy with muscle
and thick fur. His eyes were narrow and bright and his jaws open so I
could see his red tongue just before his shoulder hit me in the ribs,
sending me sprawled onto my back. His jaws were at my throat, closing
around my delicate neck as I lay there, defenseless and unmoving. I
could feel the needle points of his teeth, the humidity in his breath.
He straddled my body, growling softly as he held me, deciding if I was
human or beast. Alive or dead.

The wolf's mouth pulled away and his tongue raked across my left
shoulder. I let out the breath I was holding, turning away my eyes and
then my body, rolling over and getting on my hands and knees. He
mounted me quickly then, wrapping his paws around my waist, pushing
himself upright so that I groaned with the effort to support his
weight. I felt his long sharp claws digging into my flesh and the smell
of blood hit me, distinct and natural. I'd been cut deep on both
sides and there was pain, but it was lost to the sudden penetration of
the wolf's penis as it slipped its sheath and stabbed inside me
quickly.

He was large and thick and it felt like a knife drawn fresh from the
forge, spearing into my belly through my sex. My body shook with the
force of the animal's thrusting, the tip of his cock driving up and
in, over and over while the tribe around us went unheeded. I was lost
to everything but the cock inside me, the heavy body of my new mate
above me, and the brilliance of the fire before us. I stared into the
flames, seeing the spirits dance and celebrate this union. I was
Onijwa.

We mated for a long time, the wolf fucking me with long deep and rapid
strokes while I did my best to hold us up. I was cumming often and hard
and my arms and legs quivered with excitement and the strain of our
exertions. Where my brothers were content to keep their front legs down
when we joined, sharing the burden, my new companion was dominant and
superior and he nipped at my shoulder, drawing blood when I began to
sag under his weight. He kept his forelegs locked tightly around me,
squeezing my ribs while his hips moved, ramming the bone-like structure
of his penis into the deepest parts of me.

I was blind, like staring into the sun, and the brilliance of the fire
brought all manner of shapes and shadows into my mind. I pushed back,
growling and grunting and howling as another orgasm took me. The
wolf's knot was large and the pain of its entrance seemed a birthing
to my fevered sex. The swollen muscle pushed inside me finally and I
felt hot tears on my cheeks and my mate's breath was in my ear, his
tongue lolling across my cheek. He was in me now, my cunt heavy and fat
around him. The fucking was frantic, with short strokes coming so
quickly I found it impossible to breathe. I felt dizzy and ecstatic and
desperate to feel his seed.

When the animal came it was with a deep guttural howl of satisfaction
and I joined him, our voices filling the night and telling all the
world that we'd mated forever. There was little doubt in my mind that
he was my Master now and I was his as surely as the moon would set and
the sun rise. His sperm was hot, like a fire spreading in my belly and
I savored it, my vagina contracting around him like a fist, pumping him
with instinctive spasms of pleasure to draw as much of his seed into my
womb as possible. None of it would escape, it was held safe and secure
by the bulbous knot that locked us together.

We stayed like that for some time until the wolf released me with his
forelegs, turning so that he could stand facing away from me, guarding
us as his cock continued to leak semen into my pussy. I kept my ass in
the air, but lowered my head to cool stone, laying on my arms and
breathing heavily. I was wet with perspiration and my flushed body bore
a dozen small wounds from tooth and claw. There was no pain, however,
no sense of discomfort, even from the pressure of the animal's
bulging muscle in my vagina. I felt only warmth and happiness and some
small sense of satisfaction as well.

The wolf pulled free of me some time later, rousing me from my rest
with a slight and uncomfortable ache. That empty feeling after one of
the dogs pulled out was always strange and I instantly missed being
stuffed with the wolf's cock. There was a heavy flow of juices, his
and mine, that poured from my gaping sex and washed down my thighs. The
animal sniffed me for a moment, gave me a couple lon deep licks and
then glanced about nervously, as if suddenly remembering that he was
out of place in the midst of all those people.

I sighed and reached between my legs, feeling my labia plump and loose.
I fingered myself slowly while new songs and new chants started. The
wolf had disappeared, slipping back into the shadows from where he'd
come and I felt slightly alone, a little out of place myself. My Master
was there, my human Master, sitting with the council and talking,
drinking something and smiling. Whatever any of them had expected it
seemed they were not disappointed with me, and I was grateful for that
at least.

A young man spoke to me, his face dressed with blood red paint and
feathers. I did not understand his words at first and he handed me a
smooth wooden cup, holding it to my lips. The liquid inside was dark
and there were soft pieces of something floating in it, like meat I
thought at first, but as I took one of the spongy chunks into my mouth
I spit it into my hand and looked at it. It was a mushroom and the boy
spoke again, urging me to eat it, and to swallow the remainder of the
cup as well.

"I'm Red Crow." He told me, perhaps in his own language, or in
English, I do not know. I felt light and surrounded by a warm wind, as
if I were flying all of a sudden. "I'll show you the way." And
with that I blinked and nodded and my head felt too heavy for my neck,
so I looked down and closed my eyes, dreaming.

Sometime later an old woman, assisted by two younger girls, teenagers,
led me to a place where they'd gathered water in plastic 5 gallon
jugs. They washed me thoroughly, without speaking a word and I endured
it easily. The water was warm enough although the air was cold and made
me shiver a little. They washed my body, my sex and feet, my face and
hair, scrubbing me with woven cloth and handmade soap that smelled of
apple blossoms. I was tired and I felt almost drunk, or like I was high
on that ecstasy stuff I'd tried in Olympia. I was floating it seemed
and when they wrapped me in a blanket and led me so I could lay near
the fire I was certain this was all a dream.

But it wasn't. I woke up in a hut of some kind, perhaps a teepee or
something, I wasn't sure. It was still dark outside and I wanted to
sleep more, but the old man, Whitecloud, was speaking to me in some
language I didn't understand. He was rubbing his thumbs across my
face and down my neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of black ash. I
sat there, not moving, ignoring the stares from the other men and the
sounds of chants and drums from outside.

I watched as he pierced me finally, with a long thick bone needle,
making me wince and whine like a frightened dog. It hurt, passing that
needle through my hard nipples, which were swollen and dark. Some few
drops of blood ran down my flesh and I had to fight the urge to jerk
away from the man. In each of my nipples, just as the needle passed
through, Whitecloud followed it with a ring of bone, washed white and
scrubbed clean and filed down to something resembling an ivory earring
perhaps an inch in diameter. My nipples screamed in protest and the
small weight seemed heavy, although it was hardly noticeable.

When he had finished I wore two rings on my nipples and the pain faded
quickly, especially as a young Indian girl of 12 or 13 was right there
to dab some sort of creamy ointment around the fresh holes in my body.
I dimly remembered that she'd pit the same stiff on the scratches and
bites the wolf had given me after my bath. I felt nothing of those any
more and I thanked the child with my eyes, but she wouldn't smile and
seemed slightly afraid of me for some reason.

There was more body painting, this time in blood, although I didn't
know where or what it had come from. I could smell it though, the
distinctive odor of a fresh kill and I suspected it was a lamb
probably, one of the animals they were preparing still for the coming
meal. I watched as the old man painted on my stomach and thighs, not
using the pad of finger, but rather the edge of his long fingernails,
rather like the nib of a calligraphy pen. It was intricate and
interesting and if I had a thought to ask what it meant, I couldn't
bring myself to speak. I felt as if any sound I might make would be
that of an animal.

"Where is Red Crow?" I asked the medicine man, but he didn't
understand my slow bark, or soft growl. "He will show me the
way..." I fell asleep then, dreaming of flying and crows flying,
crimson in the sky and wherever they flew blood would fall to the earth
like rain.

And I was a wolf, in my dream, sleek and hungry and unafraid, running
after the blood, following the trail, sniffing the ground and howling
in the night. I was running, always running silent like a shadow and
urgent, feeling pain suddenly. In my belly, in my womb, I wasn't
sure. It hurt and I ran, trying to escape it, trying to follow Red
Crow, who would show me the way. But I was tired, so tired and it hurt
to run, it hurt to breathe.

I was dying.

end Ch.8

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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