Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality
From: brianac@unixg.ubc.ca (SteppenWolf)
Subject: Story Hour (M, dog)
Date: 30 Jan 1994 10:18:18 GMT

			      Story Hour
			     Chapter One
				  I

	The first sensation I was aware of was pain: a terrible,
shooting agony that engulfed my entire body. How long it was that I
had been unconscious I had no idea; and as I lay there with my eyes
shut, I lost all perception of time and space. My only thoughts were
for the pain, a desperate attempt to remember what had caused it, and
a plea to God that it would go away.

	Then, a new sensation: A soft warm caress, gently soothing to
my bruised and battered body. I opened my eyes and had to squint
against the glare of the noon-day sunlight. I tried to turn my head to
see what had cause this welcome new feeling, and could not contain a
scream of agony. I relaxed and closed my eyes, and again felt that
gentle, wonderful caress on my back; Then something cold and wet
touched my cheek, and I heard a soft, questioning whine.

	Again I open my eyes, already squinting against the expected
flood of sunlight, but I found the sun shaded by my savior, a large,
snow-white wolf bitch. She had some recent battle scars of her own,
which I later concluded were the result of a forced eviction from her
pack. At the time, however, I was almost delirious with joy, thanking
and praising whatever force controls the fates of the universe for
sending her to my aid.

	And with that thought still in my head, and while still
feeling the accompanying flood of relief, I once again slipped into
unconsciousness.

				  II

	Some time has passed before I awoke again, for when I opened
my eyes, I saw nothing but the inky blackness of midnight.

	While still clearing my mind of the dullness of sleep, I began
to take stock of my situation. I still lay where I had woken up that
afternoon (or was it morning?). My clothes were in tatters, my body
bruised and bloody, and I felt like a thousand red-hot pins had been
driven into me by some sadist existing only within the confines of my
pain-fevered brain. I should have frozen to death, there on that
barren, godforsaken hillside (for it was certainly below zero by the
time nightfall descended), or been attacked by whatever ravenous
scavengers happened to be about - and I surely would have, without the
protection of my Wolfen savior.

	She lay stretched out beside me, and the steady rise and fall
of her chest, coupled with the continuous gentle sigh of her
breathing, told of an easy, relaxed sleep - sleep which I had no
desire to disturb. She, however, possessing far keener senses than I
could ever hope for, must have felt me move, for her her breathing
became irregular, and she began shifting her position. I held my
breath and lay as still as possible, and was rewarded with a deep
sigh. She cuddled even closer to me and draped a forepaw across my
back (the pain of which nearly caused another scream of agony), and
return to her slumber.

	With her return to sleep, I returned to my musings. How had I
gotten here, and where, exactly, WAS here? I remembered setting out on
a hiking tour of the Cariboo Plateau with a pack, compass, and all the
usual equipment. My next recollection was waking up bruised and
bleeding of the side of hill, my clothes (that which remained!)
hanging from my body in tatters, all my equipment, so far as I could
determine, missing, and being bodily examined by a large female wolf,
who had apparently seem to accept me as her pup! And, God only knows
how long she was watching over me, defending me from whatever dangers
existed in the vicinity, and keeping my warm, before I regained
consciousness!

	Then, overcome by the warm comfort of her loving embrace, I
again closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

			     Chapter Two

	I had never considered myself a masochist; On the contrary,
had someone asked, I would said that I had a very low, perhaps
abnormally low, pain tolerance. Under the care of my newfound Wolfen
saviour, however, I found that the line between pleasure and pain can
be very indistinct - and can sometimes vanish altogether.

	With her motherly instincts now in full gear, my love decided
that is was time to clean me up; as a result, my morning "wakeup call"
was a searing pain reminiscent of red-hot branding iron being pressed
into my flesh. No more "love kisses" for me, at least not for now!
Starting with shoulders and upper back, and working her way all the
way back to my legs and feet, she licked roughly at every cut and
abrasion until she was satisfied that it was clean before moving on to
the next. The sensation caused by her soft warm tongue against my torn
flesh was an indescribable mingling of agony and ecstasy; flashes of
pain caused by her roughness were quickly soothed by the warmth and
softness of her tongue, for when she felt me wince she would stop and
gently kiss the area until the pain was gone. Sometimes in her
enthusiasm she would tear a scab right off one of my wounds, and she
would then stop and gently lap up the blood that issued forth until
the bleeding subsided and the wound closed again. When she came to a
spot that was still covered by what few scraps of clothing I had left
on my body, she would seize the cloth between her teeth and yank it
away, sometime reopening more wounds in the process. I never knew pain
could feel so good.

	When she had finished with my backside, she walked around to
my left side and nuzzled my side, making it plain that she wished
access to my front. I was unwilling to turn over at first, fearing
that something might be fractured or broken. She was persistent in her
demand, however, and eventually I did make the attempt. Much to my
surprise, I found that everything seemed to be working ok, that
nothing was broken or even unbearably painful to move. I had been
lucky. (I was also fortunate that, in her tongue-bathing of my back,
she loosened and relaxed my tired and aching muscles; even the best
shiatzu masseur has nothing on the gentle, repeated kisses of a canine
lover.)

	After I turned over, she walked over to my head and gave me a
slow and gentle face wash, and with each kiss I could smell fresh
blood on her breath - my blood, from the wounds she had opened on my
back. When she moved briefly on to my neck, I felt a brief cold shiver
of fear run through me, and saw a vision of her tearing my throat out,
my blood issuing forth like a geyser from my jugular and painting her
snow-white coat crimson. Then the "vision" vanished, and my love
reappeared before me. And I remember thinking to myself, why shouldn't
she kill me? She found me, she protected me from whatever dangers
surrounded me while I was unconscious, she cleaned my wounds and kept
me warm at night... She owned me, claimed me as her own, and she had
every right to do with me as she saw fit. And then: Why would she kill
me, after expending all the effort she has to keep me alive?

	I smiled up at her, and she kissed my face again. I reached up
to touch her face, but before I could touch her, she jumped back and
growled softly at me. It seemed we were both going to have to overcome
our instinctive fear of each other. I let my arm fall back to my side,
then slowly extended it to her, speaking softly to her all the while.
She slowly approached, and when she was within reach, she gingerly
licked my fingertips. I lowered my arm again, and she slowly walked
towards me. I reached up to touch her, and ran my hand gentle along
her muzzle. We were making progress. She lay down beside me, and I
slowly wrapped my arm around her. I felt her young muscular body
tense, but she relaxed again and rested her head on my chest. I closed
my eyes and basked in the warmth of her fur against my naked skin.
Being the motherly soul that she was, however, she had not forgotten
the task at hand, and while still lying down next to me began to wash
whatever parts of my shoulders, arms and chest she could reach. I
began to slowly stroke her warm thick fur, and reveled in the love and
attention being lavished on me by my beloved.

	When she had done all the areas reachable from her position,
she stood up and turned around so she could reach my stomach, and
incidentally giving me a good look at her beautiful lupine cunt. Was
it swollen - was she in heat - or was it just my overactive
imagination? I couldn't tell for sure, and it seemed like I would have
to bide my time and wait for an opportunity to check. I found it very
interesting, and arousing, that the little bitch had her tail raised
high enough to allow me to see everything clearly. Was she advertising
her "availability" and willingness? If so, that could explain her
eviction from her former pack - she could have lost a power struggle
with the alpha-female caused by an attempt to gain the interest, and a
mounting, of the alpha-male.

	She skipped my groin region, and starting with my feet, work
her way up my legs towards my crotch. I was doing my very best to keep
from getting a raging hard-on and scaring her away again, but the
sight of such a beautiful creature giving such tender and gentle
ministrations to the rest of body, and moving towards my sex, was too
much for my limited self-control to handle. She gently licked my
scrotum a couple of times, and I immediately became rock hard, almost
as a reflex action. I got so hard so fast that my throbbing member
swung up and bounced off her nose! The look of absolute surprise on
her face was priceless! She jumped back, growling, and barked at my
hard dick like it was a separate living organism!

	Her animal sexuality soon got the better of her, however, and
while she may not have known from sight alone that this was a penis,
her keen sense of smell (and, if my supposition of her being in heat
was correct, her raging hormones) informed her of the fact rather
quickly. She walked over, and in one long, exploratory tasting licked
it from root to tip. I almost shot my load right then and there! The
sight of my being serviced by a wolf bitch in the middle of a
beautiful piece of British Columbian wilderness - well, one dreams of
such things, but never in my life did I ever expect that that dream
would ever come to pass! She licked it from root to tip again, and
then gently bit my shaft. Ohhhh... and again I thought to myself that
never before had I known pain to feel so good! My muscles again flexed
themselves, and she bit around my head, enclosing it completely within
the warm, wet confines of her hot mouth, and began to suck gently on
it, like a puppy weaned too early. Then, just as my orgasm began,
another flex of my groin muscles tore my cock from her mouth, and I
came all over her beautiful face, pumping stream after stream of my
hot white semen all over her beautiful white face.

	When I had finished coming, she cleaned off whatever semen and
saliva remained on my cock and balls, and lay down beside me again.
The sight of my semen on her beautiful white fur was too much for me,
and I licked her face clean. She opened her mouth, and I thrust my
tongue inside and tasted her salty saliva mixed with the bitter taste
of my semen, and was in Heaven. I lay back again and let her lick
inside my mouth, getting high off the feeling of our tongues as they
touched and rubbed together. Then I wrapped my arms around her and
snuggled close, burying my face in the thick fur on her neck.

	I don't know how long we lay there, her with her head rested
on my chest, me with my arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly
to me, with my face buried in her fur whispering over and over again
"I love you". They were hours that seemed to last for eternity...