Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality From: an20067@anon.penet.fi Date: Tue, 10 May 1994 18:19:34 UTC Subject: Silver (F, wolf) Silver by Tony Lancaster It was so quiet the silence was a palpable thing; she thought that if she had been standing in a heaving, thumping disco the effect would have been almost the same. No, not the same of course but silence like this had a life all its own. Oh hell, she knew what she meant and there was no-one else to explain it too. She was glad of that. She was alone here in the depths of the backwoods, no other cabins for miles, no chance of meeting another human being in all that expanse of timber, river and mountain that had wrapped itself around her as soon as she had got out of her jeep days ago. How long ago? No matter. Turning from the view at the top of the crag she began to retrace her steps back down to the cabin, her feet crunching in last night's snowfall. She had noticed tracks on the way up, wolf tracks. Strangely it was not an unwelcome thought that there were other creatures sharing this place with her, just so long as they weren't human. Later as she curled up into her big chair by the crackling fire she let her mind go back over her recent past and all that had happened, the bad, painful things and the good, happy things. After all that was the point of coming up here, to sort herself out, she just had to. When Pierre, the bastard, told her that he'd found someone else and had been having an affair for months she'd not let herself believe it at first but then it had sunk in and the hurting had begun. The trouble was that she still loved him and wanted him in her life but he had moved out and there was more hurt and emptiness. And so she came up to this little retreat, half expecting it to be more hurtful than ever but the quiet, healing woodland had taken her in, wrapped her around and the world beyond the dirt track had receded until she could go back over it all. There were happy times, of course; especially here where they had spent days of their lives, just the two of them. Pierre could not always get away and then she would come up here alone. In those times of solitude she'd grown to love the place dearly. Now here she was with her life in pieces and a great hollowness inside. When she had gone into the store at the settlement they had advised her against coming up here. It was winter and no time to be alone in a cabin in the wilds but she reassured her friends there. She was no city fool and could take care of herself and there was always the radio. Heavy snowfall was forecast. Winter had his cold grip on the sleeping timberlands and the glories of the spring, summer and autumn seemed long gone but she was not concerned. The cabin was well stocked with all she would need, plenty of food and fuel for the fire and lamps. She could get to the wood store from inside the cabin, had plenty of reading material and if she did need to contact the outside world there was always the two-way radio. All that was missing was Pierre, the bastard. It helped to get mad at him, eased the ache. When she opened the door the next morning she saw that it had snowed heavily during the night. A silent, white world had closed in since yesterday and the jeep was a vague lump under its sheet. For something to do she got a shovel and began to clear a path from the door although there was no need, she wasn't going anywhere. The days and nights began to run into each other and she began to feel better. The isolation was helping her and the deep, grey feeling was starting to lift. When the sun shone the sight of the white, crystal world lifted her and her eyes would fill with tears although they were not the sad ones of before. When the moon shone and the silver light made everything look cool and unreal she heard the wolves; their lonely, powerful cries made the hair on the back of her neck prickle and she was conscious of something deep within herself that thrilled to hear it. Not fear. Oh no, not fear. She pushed the feeling away uneasily. They would be hungry, the temperature had dropped a lot and the snow was very deep now. Two nights later she heard something. Awakened from a deep dreamless sleep she listened as she became fully awake. A scratching, low down at the thick wooden door that grew slower and finally stopped. Part of her wanted to get up and open the door but the other part, the city part, said, "No, leave it. There's danger there." When the sound didn't come again she drifted off into a troubled sleep until the strong light of a sunny winter's day flooded into the cabin and she stirred and poked her head from under the warm duvet. Then she remembered and with the remembering came thoughts of what might have been at the other side of the door. Impatiently she pushed these thoughts aside and reluctantly emerged from her cosy nest and pulled on thick clothes. The fireplace was still warm from the fire of the night before and the embers in the ashes soon yielded yellow flames to her steady blowing, dry paper and kindling. She resisted the growing urge to open the door. From the windows she saw that it had snowed again though not a great deal. Finally realising that she would have no peace until she did she took a deep breath and lifted the latch. It was not locked and she pulled it open. She released the breath she had been holding back and her heart thumped painfully as she looked down to where the animal lay, half covered by the snowfall, perfectly still, perhaps dead. Crouching down beside it she brushed away the powdery snow from the wolf's face and then down to where his heart should be. "Please let it be alive. Oh please God let it not be too late," she thought her prayer to whatever was in control of this lovely place. When she felt a faint but steady beat she thought, "Thank you. Oh thank you. Please help me now." She managed to drag the dead weight of the big dog wolf into the cabin and put him in a corner so that he would not see the fire when, or if, he came round. She knew enough to know that wild things, especially wolves, fear fire. After covering him with a thick blanket she warmed some milk and easing the great jaws open she trickled a few drops sown his throat. The fearsome fangs gleamed at her. Putting a finger on one she pressed and the sharp point pricked her. Strangely she felt no fear, not threatened at all. It was like having a large dog in the place with her. What could happen later didn't occur to her right then. The creature hung between life and death. She sensed it and willed him to come back, to fight and not to leave her, for now he was part of her life. Like it or not she was no longer alone. She needed and wanted desperately for him to live and run free again in the wilderness, his wilderness. She did not go to bed for the next twenty four hours. Between dripping warm milk down him and keeping a good fire going she took a little food herself and dozed in the chair. Sometime in the early hours he whimpered. It was the sound as of a pet dog crying in his sleep. She'd kept a lamp burning low and slowly she moved over and knelt beside the recumbent animal. Reaching out she stroked the beautiful head as one would a sick dog but of course this was no pet Alsatian, it was a wild animal that could savage her in moments when he was recovered and now she knew that he would get well again, she just knew. A few hours more of dropping milk down his throat, stroking and willing him to recover and he opened his eyes. Oh but they were so beautiful! Never had she looked into such eyes. After a moment he left her and went back to sleep only now he breathed strongly and regularly, he was on his way to recovery. The next time he opened his eyes he tried to move himself but it was beyond him and instead he settled for a curl of his lips and a faint growl that rumbled in his empty belly, or so it seemed. She eased away, determined not to show the fear that swept over her. He would sense it and that would never do. He watched her warily until sleep took him again and then she relaxed. She was ready with a bowl of tinned steak when he stirred again. Just a little for now. She had placed it near his head and she saw him scenting it, nostrils twitching. He tried to move but his weakness defeated him so she moved slowly over and putting her fingers into the food smeared them liberally and then slowly, slowly she moved her hand to his mouth. His natural instincts fought with his great hunger, his lips curled again and the rumbling growl disturbed the silence. "Oh stop being so bloody macho!" She heard herself saying the words and suppressed the giggle that threatened to erupt. His ears twitched at the sound of her voice and at such close quarters. "It's all right big boy. Let's have a truce. No more big male stuff and I'll look after you." His need overcame his instincts and like a puppy he licked the meat from her fingers. She repeated the process until he had had enough and went back to sleep. And so the relationship developed. He allowed her to place the bowl near him but if she lingered or tried to touch him he would show her his wicked looking fangs and the cabin would fill with the sound of his growling disapproval. "Just like all males. Bloody ungrateful bastard." she said the words angrily to him and his ears twitched; with a final growl he settled down with his head on his paws and those incredible eyes fixed on her. When eventually he struggled to his feet and stood uncertain and unsteady she encouraged him, her voice low and eager as she sat in her chair. "Good boy, that's right, have a drink," as he bent his head and lapped at the dish of water she had put near him. He did not go to the blanket but infinitely slowly he tottered towards the door. She saw then just how emaciated he was, the bones showing through the silver-grey pelt. "That's it," she thought to herself, "he wants to go. Is that all there is?" A sense of loss hit her like before. "Oh shit! No, not again, please God no." Tears filled her eyes but quietly, slowly, she went over and opened the door and the cold air came in and he stood and scented beyond to the waiting wilderness, his wilderness. When he stepped over the threshold and went out into the snow without a backward glance her heart called out silently to him, bursting with her lonely longing. It must have cost him much to do what he did then. Struggling through the snow he went as far as he could then, just like any other dog he cocked his leg and pissed on either side of the path she had cleared. He tried to shake himself but he was weak and off balance and nearly fell over. Her heart went out to him but she knew he would not let her help him as she tottered unsteadily back into the warmth of the cabin. Now the tears came as she watched him settle down onto the blanket and fix her with his stare again. She should have known. he wanted to go out and scent his patch. No other of his kind would come near them now, but for how long? The days passed and she kept him fed with nourishing meats from her well-stocked store. The change was good to see as he filled out and regained his strength. The beautiful silver-grey pelt took on a sheen and she longed to run her hands over it but he would permit no such liberties. Once her longing to touch him grew so strong that she reached out after placing his bowl down. As her fingers made contact with his thick winter coat he gave a fearsome growl that rumbled around the cabin. His ears lay flat along his great head and he showed her his fangs. Her anger boiled over then. "Well fuck off you bad-tempered ungrateful bastard," she hissed at him but he just fixed her with his lovely eyes as usual and began to down the food. She didn't try again; he had established the boundary and she would not cross it although she longed to. When one morning the two-way radio crackled into life and the voice of Matt at the store filled the cabin he stood up with the ridge of hair along his back standing on end, growling like never before, ears flat and fangs showing. "It's all right boy. Quiet down now. Shush , shush while I answer." She reassured Matt that all was well, trying not to give any hint that she was not alone. He would go out regularly to scent his patch and empty his bowels and she came to realise that he was not going to disappear, not yet anyway. Sometimes they would hear others of his kind calling out their sad, chilling cry. He would raise his head, ears pricked; they would look at each other and then he would settle down again. It was not his time for leaving yet. One night she was restless as she lay under her duvet. The moon filled the cabin with Her cool light, she never closed the curtains and now that the her companion was used to his surroundings she did not keep a lamp burning. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Pierre for some reason, things that she imagined would no longer trouble her. Randy, sexual images form times past when they had made love in the wild places around there that now slumbered and waited for spring and summer to return. That handsome bastard Pierre was a good lover, God how he could fuck her to distraction sometimes. She would look at that fat, round bulge in the front of his jeans or shorts and the looking would send the signals down to her cunt and she would moisten beautifully. He would know and they would be out of their clothes and he would be in her without the need for words. She had not felt like this since Pierre had left her. Sex had receded from her life but now it was back and troubling her, just when she thought she was getting over the separation at last... great... She would walk out into the snow tomorrow and bump into some hunky hunter and he would take her just like Pierre used to... fat chance! Old familiar feelings crept over her and she began to enjoy them. Sliding her hand down to where her quim was now alive and insistent she was not surprised to find that she was moist. Flicking back the duvet she ran her hands over her naked body. Her breasts tightened and her nipples grew hard and swollen, the good feelings shifting down to where the centre of her sensations concentrated between her legs as she spread them and began to masturbate herself. She was building nicely when there was a movement in the shadowy corner where the wolf lay. She felt a sense of irritation at the intrusion and then watched , hand resting over her pulsing cunt as he stood up and moved forward into the moonlight. It caught his silver pelt and it came to her them that she would give him a name. Silver. There was light enough to see that he was scenting the air, head raised in her direction, nostrils twitching and chest moving as he took in her aroused female odours. She experienced a range of emotions as she took in the sight: horror, fear, excitement and most of all lust. Primitive lust crept into the cabin with the moonlight and she knew what she wanted to happen then. He moved to the bed slowly, a step at a time: daintily, tentatively. It was as though he were unsure. Different instincts fought within him and then she saw that he too was aroused. His sex protruded, the smooth length of his cock clear of its furry sheath. Silently she willed him to come to her and slowly he did. When he was at the bedside he waited. He was so big that he stood higher than her as she lay with her legs spread open. He only had to lower his beautiful head and he would be able to reach her where she was longing for him to touch her. She hardly dared draw breath, the tension almost unbearable. When he did it, lowered his head and sniffed her cunt then put his cold, moist nose there, she shuddered and released the breath that she'd been holding back. Then in one smooth movement he was on the bed with her and standing between her legs. The feel of his tongue on her swollen lips made her give a little whimper and he in turn growled very low as he licked her. "Lie still, be quiet." Slowly she slid her hands down and one on either side she opened herself for him as he used his long, hot tongue on her. It had been so long since she had felt her clitoris being stroked that way that she had forgotten just how fantastic it was. That it was this masterful, wild creature that was doing it just added to the pleasure. She knew that she was near coming and beyond caring now whether he liked it or not as she began to lift her hips and gasp out. "Yes. Ahhh yes... Good boy... Do it... Make me come... Aarrrghhhh... " He was growling his low fierce warning but she was lost in her pleasure as he orgasm swept her up and over the edge. He did not stop his licking on her sopping woman-part and now she was sensitised as never before. Almost without thinking she moved away from him, got off the bed and knelt on the floor. She knew of course what she wanted now and as she knelt on all fours she presented him with her rear and waited. It had been one of Pierre's favourite positions, taking her from the back, and now she wanted Silver to do the same. Take her as he would one of his own kind when she was on heat out there in the wild. He needed no encouragement and with one bound he was off the bed and behind her, sniffing at the pad of her cunt as it pouted at him. Then he was up and mounted on her, his front paws gripping her tightly round her waist like a dog does to a bitch he intends to enter. She felt his haunches moving, probing for entrance and he was there, slipping his smooth hot cock into her. When he was all the way in and pumping steadily she groaned and he answered her with his low growl, "Be quiet while I fuck you." She pushed back onto him, the feel of his thick, cool pelt sensual and primitive. She came again, she came again, so great had been her need. and he finished almost with her; he was not, after all, Pierre who could pace himself and bring out the woman in her so easily and often. He dismounted and then squatted to lick his shiny red cock. Going over to his corner he drank from his water bowl and then sat with his long tongue hanging out and she thought how sexual it now looked. They both slept then until she awoke and felt the need for more of the same. She took a mirror from the wall and placed it so that she would be able to watch as he took her again, then she stirred the fire and in the light from it she lay and opened her legs wide. He looked over to her, she could see his extraordinary eyes glowing in the dark corner. He had grown quite used to the fire by now but would he come over to the where she sprawled, waiting like some bitch on heat. He was very male and his cock would drive him though and true enough he stirred himself and padded over, his prick out and ready. She sighed a sigh of pure pleasure as once again he licked her down there as she held herself open for him. When he had lifted her up enough she moved and presented to him and he mounted and went in. Oh the sensations as he gripped her with his forepaws and jabbed into her. She looked across to the mirror and saw their reflections and it was a lusty, lewd sight she saw, him mounted on her, his haunches pumping steadily. It did strange things to her and she came satisfyingly before he finished with her and went off to lick his fine cock and settle down again. * * * It was a fine, sunny day and the temperature had risen. She knew that things were different when he only picked at the bowl of food that she put down for him. He sat and looked at her and she thought how beautiful he was. Impelled by something, she did not know what, she went over and squatted down beside him and tentatively reached out a hand and put it on his head. No growls, no fangs, not this time. He let her take her pleasure and she lovingly stroked the fine head and then down along his back running her fingers over the silver-grey pelt. She knew then that it was time. Getting up she went to the door and opened it wide and the winter wilderness came in and he scented the crisp air and got up on his four strong legs and walked slowly over and then out into his world. She watched as he left his scent on either side of the path as he usually did and then loped easily away up the rise across from the cabin. When he reached the top he stopped and turned to look back to her as she stood in the doorway, the he moved into the snow-loaded trees and was gone. She should have felt devastated but mercifully she did not. She knew deep within herself that he would be back. This cabin was on his patch now, he ad scented it and had mated with her. They would be together again when she returned from the city where such things didn't happen or were not believed. She would hear his kind calling out into the night and she would go again into his world; he would find her and they would mate again under the summer night sky and when winter came here again she would hear scratching at the door and he would enter her world again. There was a bond between them now, they had helped each other. Later when she had tidied the cabin and prepared for leaving she used the two way and told Matt that she was about to set off back for "Civilization". It would take her an hour or a little more to get down the track and they would expect her. She left the blanket in the corner. With a final look round she closed and locked the door and went over to the jeep. She was leaving a great deal happier than when she arrived. There was life after Pierre.