Author: Pescador del Valle
Title: XXX-Men 02 : "Perra"
Part: Chapter 1
Universe: PdV's XXX-Men
*********************************************************
Summary: If mutations granting super-powers became 
evident at puberty you're going to try to tell me the 
"lucky" people wouldn't behave exactly like every other 
teenager out there?
Keywords: MMMf-nc, Mf, oral, best, first, rom.
Language: English
Copyright: 2004

      *********************************************
      *                 WARNING!                  *
      * This text file contains sexually explicit *
      * material. If you do not wish to read this *
      * type of literature, or you are under age, *
      *      PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!      *
      *********************************************

Comments appreciated : 
  see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html
*********************************************************

Teenagers!

Perra's mother no longer understood what motivated her 
daughter.  They just didn't seem to speak the same 
language any more.

Skula, regal matriarch and ultra-sensitive to societal 
mores, did not like the young man her daughter was 
showing such an interest in.  He had been working for the 
Lukos family for a couple of years now and Skula was 
adamant her daughter was NOT going to get involved with 
the "help".

It just wasn't done!

---

Perra of course saw things differently.

Where the older generation and, indeed to be completely 
honest, her siblings saw the world only in terms of black 
and white, Perra had found an inexpressible joy in a 
world filled with colour - warm reds and oranges; cool 
relaxing blues and greens; vibrant hues in an apparently 
infinite range of shades.

It was Damien who provided this refreshing access to the 
world outside the stifling confines of her home.  
Actually he was the ONLY access she had.

In fact it was not an exaggeration to say that, without 
his influence, she would not be the person she was.

---

Damien had been employed to care for the animals in a 
private zoo, an expensive foible of an eccentric 
businessman who could afford the macho thrill of being 
able to tell of his collection of carnivores.  Damien had 
yet to see him do more than occasionally walk past or 
over the enclosures with a few others in tow.

He didn't know how his boss had managed to get some of 
the rarer specimens - virtually all carnivores were 
threatened if not actually endangered - and he certainly 
had assembled a divers collection.

Damien's favourites were the canine types - the coyotes, 
wolves, dingoes, jackals and foxes (though he could take 
or leave the hyenas) and some of the ursine specimens - 
bears from Canada, Russia, China and Indo-china.

He had mixed feelings about the assortment of felines - 
he had never been a cat person and the beauty of their 
smooth powerful musculature couldn't make up for their 
tendency to snarl whenever he went near.

He was professional enough not to let that affect the 
treatment he afforded the tigers, lynxes, leopards, 
cougars, cheetahs, jaguars and slightly moth-eaten lions.

BUT ... he didn't talk to them, he didn't make friends 
with any of them, they didn't respond eagerly when he 
came round unless it was feeding time.

It was the way that he treated the animals that attracted 
Perra (she didn't care much for the cats either - their 
enclosures stunk!).  Or more to the point the fact that 
he spoke to her with the same easygoing friendliness that 
no-one else ever used.

The other servants on the estate would barely acknowledge 
her.  Perra thought they were too afraid of her parents 
to get close enough to make friends; she couldn't blame 
them - she was afraid of them as well, or rather of the 
way they always seemed to find fault with her lately.

Whenever she could join him Perra listened carefully as 
Damien explained what he was doing.  He probably 
shouldn't have encouraged her but she was eager to be 
with him and, making sure his boss never found out, he 
didn't mind her wandering around helping him.

It should have occurred to him that she was forming an 
attachment to him - he was the only person she really 
spent time with after all.  He certainly didn't think of 
the consequences if it should continue, nor if, as was 
inevitable, they were discovered together.

---

Perra was inconsolable.  Damien hadn't been sacked, 
instead he had been given an opportunity to resign.  Oh, 
he got adequate severance pay and even more than adequate 
references under the circumstances but his wishes, and 
Perra's, were not considered.

He was gone!  The presence she had known all her life, 
her mentor, her only friend - Gone!

All her life?  A couple of years?  Not unreasonable since 
a wolf grows much faster than a human.

But Perra wasn't just a wolf.

The mutations that were affecting humans had not left the 
rest of the animal kingdom untouched though the 
differences in brain structure meant the effects were 
less significant - generally.

Perra wasn't the only animal to become more intelligent 
but that wasn't enough in most cases.  For many, the 
distraction of higher thought processes tended to cause 
them either to make dangerous forays or to pause when 
they should be taking evasive action.  It was a case of 
curiosity killing the smart cat and the early bird 
catching the contemplative worm.

A child needs their language centres stimulated in the 
right way at the right time if they are to develop the 
ability to use speech.  No matter how intelligent the 
animal, if it is surrounded only by literally dumb 
companions it will never reach that extra level.

Perra fortunately had a talkative Damien around 
throughout that time and could eventually clearly 
understand him; she tried her hardest to answer with a 
throat not designed for the subtleties of human speech.  
The attempt, though unsuccessful and misinterpreted by 
the keeper, built the appropriate - and necessary - 
neural pathways.

It messed up her relationships with the other wolves 
though.  Perra could still converse with them, messages 
even more complex in their own special way, but when she 
tried to use human concepts she only confused them; a 
confusion that turned to the special hostility reserved 
for one who betrayed their heritage.

Perra didn't know why Damien had been replaced.  She 
simply knew that his duties were being performed by 
someone else - someone who would not acknowledge her let 
alone release her so she could keep him company as he 
worked.

Perra found herself restricted to the area by the gate of 
the wolf enclosure - a sculptured sunken area the size of 
several large suburban house blocks with aerial walkways 
and viewing platforms.  She was isolated from her friend 
on one side of the fence and targeted by her former pack 
on the other.

At least in the narrow walkway she could limit any 
hostile attacks to a face-to-face confrontation with one 
wolf at a time.

It couldn't last though.  She would HAVE to leave her 
shelter to get food or water, or even just to escape the 
stench of her excrement.  They however could take turns 
watching for a momentary advantage.

Escape!  If only.  She would be able to search for 
Damien.

Perra had watched how he opened the gate.  She knew she 
would be able to do it if only she had hands instead of 
paws.  Perhaps she could still manage it.  She was 
irrationally optimistic without ever having seen an 
episode of Lassie.  At least she would be no worse off if 
she failed.

There were ominous noises from out in the compound.  
Perhaps she WOULD be worse off.  She turned back to the 
gate in desperation.

The catch was easy enough to reach through the narrow 
armhole but Perra couldn't quite seize the knob to turn 
it.  The noises became more noticeable - they were 
understandable at a gut level even though she had never 
heard them expressed before.  They meant trouble.

Perra tried again with increasing desperation.  If she 
didn't get it this time she would have to turn before 
they came upon her.  The attack would be vicious; there 
would be no acceptance of an exposed belly designating 
complete surrender - she was now prey.

Her paw was turning the knob; Perra leaned against the 
gate so her weight would swing it open as soon as the 
catch was released; she couldn't risk it slipping shut 
again - there wouldn't be another attempt.

The mesh fell away from her and she collapsed onto the 
path as the spring closure swung the gate shut again, 
just as her brother crashed snarling into it.

He was confused.  He could smell Perra.  He could smell 
the fear scent that had driven him to attack.  But the 
person lying on the concrete was hairless.  It was one of 
THEM regardless of the strong impression of his hated 
sister.

His tail swept angrily as he turned away.  He might not 
have been "privileged" to have had his intelligence 
increased like his sister but he knew he would not be 
able to get through the gate.  Regardless of where his 
sister WAS, he knew she wasn't HERE, and that was good 
enough for now.  If she returned they would have their 
reckoning then; she was no longer part of the pack.

---

Perra shivered, unaccustomedly cool as she lay on her 
side.  She turned her head to nip her shoulder where she 
felt the biting insect and realised with a shock that she 
couldn't reach it and that her normal warm coat of fur 
was missing.

She stood up; that didn't feel right either, her paws 
were strange, human appendages on the end of human limbs.  
It meant her normal four-footed stance left her bare 
tailless buttocks poised high above her.  Her buttocks 
were different too, far more muscular, designed for an 
upright stance rather than for quadruped travel.

Perra stood on her hind legs.  "No", she thought, "my 
ONLY legs!"

She looked at her forepaws, the long delicate fingers 
were a contrast to the normal toes; the fine nails far 
less useful than her robust claws.  But at least she had 
the opposable thumbs that had allowed her to open the 
latch when she had needed it.

She had to hold onto the fence to steady herself.  She 
wasn't used to standing this way.

"Oh!  What's happened to me?"

Her voice was eerily distorted to her ears.  She had said 
the words; she could understand her own speech though she 
doubted others would have been able to.  Perra had the 
physical means to make the right noises and a mind that 
could send the right signals but she hadn't the practise 
to make them come out clearly - yet.

Perra realised the question that was most important was 
not what HAD happened but what WOULD happen to her.

---

After easily opening the remaining gates Perra had 
carefully headed out of the enclosures, keeping to the 
shadows.  She knew the way to what had been Damien's 
quarters, having travelled that far on her penultimate 
excursion with him; she held out no hope that he would be 
there.  It had been too long.

Her damned nose wasn't working properly though and her 
hearing was far less sensitive.  She made up for the loss 
by being extra careful as she snuck along.

The new keeper was out.  Provided the animals had been 
fed, watered and mucked out there was no reason for him 
not to have his evenings free.

Perra knew she would have to wear the coverings the other 
humans wore; without her fur she would freeze, perhaps 
not literally though she did have goose bumps already, 
and she was sure they would take more notice of her if 
she was naked.

With the small house located inside one of the most 
secure estates in the country, there was little by way of 
additional measures to stop intruders gaining access to 
Damien's former quarters.  Had the new keeper bothered to 
turn on his alarm system Perra's entry would have been 
noticed but since he was only visiting with some of the 
other resident staff he hadn't bothered.

The cupboards and drawers were not dissimilar to the bins 
Perra had observed Damien opening.  The outer clothing 
was recognisable but she had never seen Damien in other 
than his white overalls and what she found stowed away 
made little sense.   She searched through the house 
looking for something she could understand and finally 
found it in a pile of laundry returned to the house but 
not yet put away.

It took some time, and a few tears of frustration, and 
even a curse that Damien would have been embarrassed 
about had he known that he had taught it to her.

Finally all her limbs were in the appropriate holes and 
she had managed to close the front.  It was fortunate the 
buttons and press studs had been replaced with Velcro 
else she would have displayed a most unusual plunging 
neckline.

In almost every way Perra would pass for a human female 
in her mid to late teens.  True, her short hair and eyes 
were both unusual colours, and there was just a hint of a 
hairy tuft behind the merest point at the top of each ear 
but the first just enhanced her mysterious beauty and the 
second could easily be overlooked.

But ... whereas any other young lady might be expected to 
have prominent mounds across her chest, Perra had eight - 
all double A, maybe less; though she certainly had no 
knowledge of breast sizes, she WAS aware that the lumps 
were more prominent in her new form.  Under the baggy 
overalls the repeated ripples were disguised; Perra could 
even pass for a male worker if her face was hidden.  
Certainly no-one would associate her with a missing she-
wolf.

Footwear was more of a problem.  Firstly there was 
nothing small enough for her feet and secondly she had no 
experience of laces or buckles.

What she did recognise were the black rubber Wellingtons, 
filth encrusted from the day's earlier cleanup.  They 
would flop around making bipedal movement more difficult 
for the novice but they would at least protect the soft 
pads - No, soles - of her feet.

Perra left the house to try and find Damien.

---

The scent receptors in the human nose cover an 
insignificant area when compared to those of a hunting 
animal such as a bloodhound - or a wolf.

While Perra in human form suffered a drastic loss of 
ability compared to her lupine state, she still could 
sense far smaller traces than others born to that shape.  
It took a while for her to appreciate what she still had 
rather than regretting her losses but eventually she came 
across a significant scent of her beloved Damien.

She had been quartering the estate, being missed on three 
occasions by complacent security staff more interested in 
the absence of "visitors", welcome or not, outside the 
grounds than in differentiating between those already 
inside the gates.  Had the senior staff been present 
matters may have turned out differently.

Damien had been given transport away from the estate, 
leaving from the servant's entrance of course.  Traces of 
his scent, mingled with a mixture from each of those who 
had said goodbye, could be found by the drive.

It took a while for Perra to recognise the metallic-
rubber-hydrocarbon mix as one of the vehicles people 
sometimes travelled in.  She couldn't scent Damien but 
the automobile's spoor was much stronger.

Perra followed it down the drive.

Guarded areas tend to be designed with their strengths 
concentrated in one direction; you are either stopping 
people from getting in or from leaving.  The estate was 
no different.

At the time all eyes were focussed outwards so Perra was 
at, and over, the gate before her presence really 
registered.  With no sign of a problem the guards delayed 
their decision whether to raise an alarm until they were 
then likely to be criticised for NOT raising it.

Perra was just following the road down the hillside 
without attempting to be furtive so the two guards 
finally decided that their bosses wouldn't want to be 
disturbed for what was obviously nothing.

"Unless it's logged it didn't happen", suggested one.  
His co-worker agreed.  It hadn't happened!

---

The recent weather had been fortunate; the scent of the 
car was traceable to the bottom of the private road but 
then things got confusing.  Still it was obvious that the 
conglomeration of lights was the likely destination.  
Perra was still naive enough not to realise the world 
consisted of more than the estate and the lights; had she 
realised that Damien could be in some other place, or 
even how big the "lights" were, she may have just curled 
up by the side of the road.

It was late and a weeknight and the road she followed 
passed through quiet residential suburbs where most 
people were fast asleep.

Perra travelled at a ground-covering lope, neither 
walking nor running, fit enough that the exercise had not 
begun to tire her.  Her stride incorporated a bouncing 
motion, discovered to be the best compromise with the 
heavy pendulum-like boots; their inertia dragged her 
forward once she had a rhythm established rather than her 
having to lift them step by solid step.

As she went she lifted her puny nose to sniff the air.

"Not even a decent muzzle and such pathetic fangs", she 
thought, running her tongue over the blunt enamel.  "How 
can humans spread their jaws wide enough to rip out a 
decent chunk of flesh?"

There was no trace of the one she sought.

Perra wandered through the chill night.  She was happy 
she had thought to replace her fur with the human 
clothing; it wasn't sufficient but it was better than 
nothing would have been.

She found the variety of colours in the lighting nothing 
short of amazing.  The enclosure had been left "au 
natural" except for tiny night lights along the sides of 
the paths.  On the few occasions Perry could remember 
them being used their blue-violet glow could barely be 
seen by the animals below.

Now there was a plethora of multi-coloured neon signs 
around her, in or over shop windows; there were rows of 
orange sodium lights and the bright white mercury vapour 
lamps at the intersections.  There were poles and 
suspended lights that changed colours in a perplexing yet 
regular manner.  For a night "person" there was still 
plenty to see and Perra kept her head moving from side to 
side no different from any other tourist who didn't want 
to miss a thing.

Perra continued to follow the main road though she got no 
further clues to Damien's whereabouts.  Quartering the 
estate had borne fruit so she was willing to try a 
similar technique without realising the far larger area 
and the greater number of confusing scents would make it 
a far more difficult problem for her weaker senses.

The suburbs eventually changed to the inner city and now 
she started seeing more people about.  None of them were 
her Damien.  Traffic flow increased as well and Perra 
found herself forced over to the sidewalks in imitation 
to the other humans.

While that kept her away from the dangerous metal 
carriages it brought her much closer to another danger 
that she did not have experience enough to comprehend 
until it was almost too late.

"Hey babe.  Watcha doon out sa late?  Lookin' fra part-
ee?"

There were three men standing around next to one of the 
parked cars.  She had trouble making sense of both their 
accents and their words; Damien did not speak like that.

They might know where to find him though.

"Damien.  Find Damien."

Her speech was clearer than theirs in many respects but 
the slowness and limited wordage suggested that she was 
slightly retarded.  Still she was certainly something to 
look at, regardless of her unusual costume, and the trio 
figured she might provide a little late night recreation.

"Damien?  He's a good friend of ours.  Ya want us to take 
ya t'him?  Hop in."  The speaker opened the door.

Perra thought a moment before climbing in.  She 
understood their speech better than their intent and it 
was only when the three men climbed in, one in the front 
and the other two on either side of her, that she noticed 
the stink of their sexual anticipation.

Damien had never responded to her interests, if his sense 
of smell was as poor as hers seemed to be she did not 
wonder that he would have missed the aromatic cues.  She 
didn't seem to go into heat quite like the rest of her 
ex-pack.  She emitted the pheromones when oestrus was on 
her but unlike them she could resist the mating urges; 
contrarily she could have the urges, albeit nowhere near 
as strong, at other times when her female relatives would 
have rejected any advances - not that the males would 
have been interested then. 

These males seemed different.  Though SHE knew she wasn't 
fertile they were responding as though she was.  They had 
taken no action to establish their interest, yet, but 
their eyes showed they were well aware of her.

"Where you come from?"  The man on her left who had not 
spoken yet asked a question that he didn't really care 
she answered; it might be nice to know if the young woman 
was likely to be missed if they decided to keep her for a 
while but they could find out more later.  He would also 
have liked to have started exploring on the way but knew 
it would be easier to get her out of the car if she 
wasn't waking up half the neighbourhood.  They could 
afford a short wait.

"Home."  Perra didn't really have another name for it.

Once again the men interpreted this as being some 
institution.  Perhaps she worked in the garden and had 
wandered off.  If so she had probably been missing for 
several hours now.  That she was wandering around the 
streets in the early hours of the morning did not suggest 
she was sensible enough to ask for help.  The situation 
looked all the better for them.

Al turned into the driveway next to a rundown house in an 
older suburb, an area poorly maintained in comparison to 
the leafier avenues she had passed earlier in the 
evening.

Gabe, the one who had originally opened the door for her, 
got out and offered her his hand.  When she was hesitant, 
more from a misunderstanding of the gesture, he took her 
arm, not unduly roughly but with an insistence she found 
disturbing.

Nick pushed her from behind, ready to cover her mouth if 
she tried to scream.  That was a response she was not 
familiar with; a snarl would have been more likely.

"Damien is inside."  Gabe tried to allay any suspicions 
while Al hurried to open the door.  Perra got out and was 
"escorted" inside where she was "offered" a seat on the 
lounge between Gabe and Nick.

"Damien is out right now but we told him you were here.  
He said to wait for him and that we should have a little 
party together.  'Kay?"

"Here yago."  Al pushed a glass towards her.  Her senses 
found the smell of the harsh spirit acrid and she turned 
away refusing it.  

"Where IS Damien?" she wondered.

"Not thirsty?  Perhaps ya like to do other things with 
good ol' Damien?  Howsbout we make ya a bit more comfy?"

Gabe was holding one arm while Nick held the other.  Al 
put down the glass and started to undo the seal that held 
the front of Perra's overalls in place.

"Well now I've gotta say this here is one of the best 
outfits I've seen.  It just peels apart and yaint got 
nuthin underneath."  He pulled the sides of the material 
apart.

Since Perra felt no shame about her body nor experience 
of human behaviour in such situations his action, in 
itself, caused her no distress and she let him expose her 
breasts.

"Oh what fine titties ya got girl.  They is just so tiny 
- they is itty bitty titties!  I think ya really should 
have ya drink now." 

He put it to her lips, pressing his finger into her 
cheek, painfully separating her teeth so she would have 
to open enough for him to pour the whiskey between her 
lips.  The taste made her gasp which only allowed him to 
pour in more which she was compelled to swallow.

It burned her throat going down and the odours burned 
inside her nostrils.  She ended up swallowing the major 
part of a not insubstantial glass.

"Now ya just had to spill some dincha?  I spose I better 
help clean ya up."

Al knelt before Perra and leaned towards her.  The 
whiskey had flowed down her chin and Al licked the still-
wet trail over her neck and down to one of the petite 
breasts.

She struggled at the unwelcome contact but was held firm 
on either side.  Gabe took advantage of the bare breast 
beside him and began to rub his finger and thumb around 
the nipple.  It hardened to his touch, a sign that 
promised an interesting night even if the unknown girl 
proved less than co-operative.  SHE might not want to 
party but it looked like her body might not put up as 
much resistance; he much rather would work on a wet pussy 
than a dry one and he knew she would end up preferring 
that as well if she got to experience both.

Nick, without a breast of his own to play with, was 
opening the rest of the overalls.  He reached around 
inside, not sure whether there was room to finger her 
cunt but the garment SEEMED loose enough to allow at 
least a little exploration.  He found more than he 
expected without ever getting anywhere near his 
objective.

"What the fuck?!"

The abrupt delivery of his exclamation brought a halt to 
the other's activities.

"What?"

"Have a look what I have found."

The three men took a serious look at the third breast and 
then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

"How many fuck'n tits does she have anyway?"

"Let's see shall we?  Clear the table."

Al hurried to obey Gabe and the other two walked Perra to 
the kitchen where she was stood facing the table.  Al 
stood behind and slipped the overalls off of her 
shoulders, each man releasing his grip just long enough 
for the sleeves to be removed one at a time from her pale 
limbs.

Al produced a set of handcuffs and they secured her 
wrists behind her.  With the garment around her knees she 
was turned again and lifted onto the table where her back 
was forced against the cold and gritty surface.  Al 
barely paused to glance at the silky smooth pubic hair 
before pulling off her boots and discarding her only 
garment.

"Will ya look at this!  Eight tittles all like the 
first."

"She must be Snow White!" laughed Gabe.  "Pale as all 
hell and enough tits so each of the little guys got one 
each!"

Al laughed, ignoring the fact that this still left one 
for Prince Charming when he turned up.  "Well there 
certainly are enough to go around here.  Dig in."

The three men each bent over, taking one breast in each 
hand and pressing their mouths over a pointy nipple.  
There seemed barely enough flesh to hold onto!

Gabe, and then Nick when he saw what his friend had done, 
moved the hand that was holding the breast he was sucking 
on over to a breast that was free and began to work on 
three breasts simultaneously.

Al, at the end of the table, missed out but found the 
girl's pussy was fresh enough to explore as well.  He 
used his chest and elbows to spread her thighs and 
trapped her knees in his armpits so he could continue to 
play with her lowermost pair of breasts while he lapped 
at her cunt juices.

The flavour was strong but not offensive and her 
struggles to get away from the three only spurred them 
on.  The fact that she hadn't called for help made them 
more convinced that she was some dummy who didn't have 
enough sense to keep out of dangerous situations.

Perra had never been in a situation where such a call had 
been necessary.  Her food had been past needing to call 
out and wouldn't have used those words.  The call of one 
of the pack if trapped would have been more a warning to 
it's pack-mates to avoid the danger rather than a request 
for assistance; the pack itself would have treated a call 
for help only as a sign that the time had come for that 
member of the pack to die.

And then the elusive Damien.  His only use of the word 
had been a loving "Are you ready to help me again girl?"; 
not a sentence that had any relationship to her current 
position.

Despite her anger at being confined and her annoyance 
that the three men had not taken her to her Damien, Perra 
was not afraid.  She did not have the social upbringing 
that warned of stranger danger and rape; violence was a 
necessary way of life without being what would have been 
described as "needless".

Wolves lived with a "needed violence" when required and 
at other times were just as loving to their pack as any 
well-adjusted human family would have been.  They could 
thrill to the hunt but, when the chase was finished, 
their prey was despatched as humanely (lupinely?) as 
possible.  The provision of already despatched prey as 
food could not change untold generations of wolfish 
behaviour.

Though she continued to struggle, Perra's body was not 
strong enough to resist the attentions of three muscular 
men.  Her own musculature would have made many a female 
athlete envious but it was built for speed and endurance, 
not for lifting or punching.  Had she known some martial 
art it might have sufficed but her real defensive power 
lay in the jaw muscles she no longer possessed.

She couldn't help feel the pleasurable sensations that 
they were causing though.  Had she been frightened of 
what was happening things might have been different but 
now she just wanted the pleasure to stop.  They were NOT 
Damien and, though the position she was in was most 
unnatural, the situation was no different than when her 
former pack had been sniffing around before they had 
decided she was too different to be Pack any more.

The men finally decided that they had done enough to get 
her ready, after all they hadn't picked her up for HER 
entertainment.  They weren't particularly brutal people, 
unless they had to be, and so far her relatively 
compliant behaviour had meant the rape had proceeded with 
remarkable civility.

They had their own pecking order so there was no 
objection when Al stood between Perra's legs and dropped 
his pants.  Gabe similarly dragged his not unsubstantial 
erection through his fly and turned Perra's head towards 
it.

"Now ya be a good girl 'n' things will be all-l-l right.  
"Ya understand?"

Gabe took the movement of Perra's head to be acquisition.  
Perhaps this Damien guy had given her a bit of pork 
sausage himself from time to time and she was used to 
partying.  He pushed his prick against her lips and with 
just the barest pause Perra opened to let him in.

Perra's taste buds were more sensitive than a human's 
though still not quite what she was used to.  Fortunately 
her brain still had a wolf's sensibilities as to what was 
nice and what was nasty.  A prick that has been sitting 
inside a pair of sweaty jocks for several hours isn't 
quite as offensive when you are used to tearing steaming 
entrails open to get at a hot bloody liver.

She wasn't at all sure of WHY he had put his prick there.  
Damien certainly hadn't done anything similar though she 
had groomed some of the other wolves and had licked their 
fur-covered sheaths and occasionally the spike-like 
extension that had poked forth as a result of her 
attentions.  The fact it had included her father and 
brothers as well as the other members of the pack was not 
important; wolves didn't view things in quite the same 
way.

The actions of the three men, even Al's cunnilingus, were 
near enough to past grooming experiences that Perra 
hadn't found it disturbing.  What Al was doing now WAS!

She automatically tried to turn her head but Gabe pressed 
his palm against her ear and began to move his organ in 
and out instead and her muffled attempts at protest meant 
the previously insipid blow job began to feel more 
pleasant.

Al had wiped the head of his prick through Perra's juices 
and had then slid the length of his erection over the 
surface of her pussy in an attempt to make her eager for 
the fucking he was about to give her.  Her hips became 
more agitated as she realised his intention and a smile 
grew on his face - if she kept that up he was going to 
have a good time; there was nothing worse than some bitch 
who just lay there!

Al didn't know just how much of a bitch was laying there.  
A bitch who didn't scream and scratch and cry.  But 
rather a bitch who had had to stand up against those who 
had been closest to her and who had an ingrained instinct 
to fight for herself in one way.

Gabe had no chance.  Perra's teeth clamping down in 
reflex to Al's thrust through her hymen might not have 
caused him a serious injury (seriousness in this case 
being, like beauty, very much a personal appraisal) but 
she still had some of the former length in her canines 
and the puncturing wounds they caused were instinctively 
followed by a seizure of the tender piece of meat between 
scissor-like incisors and a twisting of her head that 
even his heavy hand could not prevent.

Al looked up from the view of his own vanished prick to 
the sound of Gabe's piercing scream.  His friend 
staggered back with blood flowing out of his trousers 
like a stream of the reddest piss Al could imagine.  
Nick's movement as he jumped back from the table caused 
him to turn back away from the horrid image.  He found an 
even worse one.

Perra, her lips and chin smeared with the blood flowing 
from Gabe's stump, was chewing and, as Al watched in 
disbelief, she swallowed and then began chewing again.

They had thought her mentally disabled, now they wondered 
what sort of homicidal maniac they had found.

Al's penis was shrivelling but before it had dropped out 
of Perra's no longer virgin hole he felt it squeezed hard 
as yet another horror occurred.

Perra was changing in front of his, and Nick's, eyes.  
Gabe, collapsed on the floor, curled in a ball and still 
screaming, missed the transformation from attractive 
young woman to equally attractive young wolf.

For Perra it was not a pleasant experience.  The 
transformation was not painful, merely a little 
discomfort akin to growing pains as limbs adjusted and to 
indigestion as internal organs moved around.  Her fore 
legs however were trapped behind her in a position that 
was barely okay for a human and excruciating for a 
canine.

Al found that he was now holding the much thinner and 
hairier hind legs of a wolf that was struggling to get 
free of the handcuffs holding her imprisoned.  He looked 
down as he felt his penis pushed out of Perra's body.  He 
had been fucking a bloody animal!

He let Perra go and stepped back himself just as her paw 
slipped through the circle of steel set to hold a human 
wrist.  She rolled over, bringing her front legs back 
into a more normal position and lay there for a few 
seconds as her shoulders screamed their own agony and 
simultaneous relief.

Al was more worried about his reputation should his 
bestial activities become known than about Gabe's injury.  
If Gabe bled to death it would be one less witness though 
it WOULD be preferable if he died when Al wasn't around.  
At least it was Gabe's house.  He looked over at Nick's 
face where he was trying, barely successfully, not to 
vomit.

"Kill her", he said softly.  "You go one way and I'll go 
the other.  There's knives behind you and I'll get Gabe's 
gun."

He slowly moved past Gabe.

What he didn't count on was Perra understanding EVERY 
word of this conversation, well all but one; she wasn't 
familiar with "gun" but taken in context it wasn't going 
to be something nice.

Knives could cut; Perra had watched Damien preparing the 
meat for those animals who couldn't take a whole goat or 
sheep.  "Knives" cut through the flesh even better than 
her own teeth in some respects.  "Kill her" was also 
obvious and very personal.  Perra ignored the ache in her 
shoulder and launched herself off of the tabletop in a 
fluid motion even as Nick grabbed the long and very sharp 
carving knife.

It was impossible for Nick to hold the knife once Perra's 
fangs tore the muscles of his forearm into something that 
reminded him of diced steak and it clattered to the floor 
as he added his screams to Gabe's.  Perra left him and 
turned to find the third rapist.

Al might have been okay if he had bothered to close the 
door behind him.  Only "might" since Perra in wolf form 
probably had the strength to break it open without first 
having to change back to turn the knob.  He "might" have 
had enough time to put more than one bullet into the 
revolver and "might" have had time to aim properly - but 
he didn't.

His shot wasn't far off but the bullet only passed 
through Perra's fore leg as she jumped towards him and 
then her teeth were in his throat while he uselessly 
pulled the trigger over and over until his brain, starved 
of the oxygen-filled blood pulsing from his carotids, 
stopped telling his fingers to squeeze yet again.

He had fallen as she crashed into him and she tore the 
front of his throat out, quite appropriately wolfing it 
down.  As the adrenalin rush passed the pain of the 
bullet wound became obvious and she wobbled in reaction.

Perra turned away from Al's body and limped back to the 
lounge and then the kitchen where the two other men lay, 
their screams turned to whimpers.

Both looked pale amidst the rich red blood.  Gabe had 
just sat in shocked disbelief as his pants had become a 
sodden mess.  He had made no attempt to stop the flow and 
now it was going to be too late unless a paramedic 
arrived in the next minute or so.

Nick's pants were a sodden mess as well but only because 
he had lost control of both bladder and bowels at the 
infliction of a pain he had never previously experienced 
in circumstances he could not accept.  There were no such 
things as werewolves!

He was right.  But there was at least one were-human.

Being right didn't stop the arterial flow that spurted 
far less energetically as shock shut down peripheral 
blood flow to ensure an adequate supply to the more vital 
parts of his body.  That assumed that he had enough left 
to BE an adequate supply; an incorrect assumption.

Nick watched the she-wolf standing beside him and waited 
for her to attack again.  Had she been a shark she would 
have but Perra had no need to do any more.  She didn't 
particularly hate him, or the other two, she had simply 
reacted to an attack against her.  Had Al found some 
other way to get his pleasure she may even have groomed 
all three of them, blowing them until they came even 
though that wasn't a wolf "tradition".

Perra simply turned and limped towards the door on three 
legs.  She looked at the latch and the change was far 
easier this time.

On two legs it was easy to walk past the dying rapists to 
don her only garment and boots.  Then out the door and 
off into the dark, once more keeping stealthily to the 
shadows.

---

Monitoring their scanners, the press turned up with the 
Police in response to some neighbour's call about the 
blood-curdling screams that came from the only house that 
had had its lights on at 3:30 in the morning.  There were 
a few more now that there were red and blue lights 
flashing as well.

It might have been a poorer neighbourhood than that Perra 
had first seen but that didn't mean the people who lived 
there were any better or worse.  Those who were of the 
better sort welcomed the Police presence.  The three new 
corpses had lived there because they couldn't afford 
better; had they been wealthier they would simply have 
planned their rapes differently or perhaps made more use 
of the city's hookers.

Even before the sun had risen, the radio and television 
news reports were telling of the vicious murder.  They 
mentioned the dog bites but even the reporters who had 
been told about the injuries "off the record" were not 
able to talk about lost penises; even torn out throats 
would have to wait for the late-night news, it wasn't 
something to hear over one's breakfast.

Damien hadn't tuned in to the news but did have a job 
interview that morning.  With little time to search for 
anything better when he didn't know how long his money 
had to last, he had gotten a small room only three blocks 
from where Perra had been taken.  Despite their 
proximity, he certainly had no knowledge of her captives.

There was still a large enough Police presence in the 
morning to draw a crowd of onlookers as they headed off 
to their jobs.  Damien, heading past on foot, had paused 
long enough to find out what had happened and then had to 
sprint to catch his bus into the city.

---

Perra had found an abandoned building to hide out in 
during the day.  It had been less than twenty four hours 
since her first transformation and she was still used to 
a nocturnal existence even though her colour vision was 
far less sensitive to the more subtle differences at 
night than her relatives' monochromatic sight.  Still you 
don't miss that which you never had quite as much as the 
things you know you have lost.

What she had lost, and was definitely missing, was her 
Damien.  During the day Perra had periodically licked at 
her arm, keeping the small wounds clean.  The bruised 
muscle tissue was sore but there had very fortunately 
been minimal damage.  There had been little blood flow 
once she had settled but she quite noticeably favoured it 
once dusk descended.

She crept out of the building and stripped off in the 
shadows of a nearby garden to empty her bladder and her 
bowels.  It was cool but she was smart enough to know 
that leaving the garment on would NOT be a good idea.

Perra managed to dress again without being caught; it was 
getting easier (with a single exception) to twist her 
limbs to slide them down the sleeves and pants legs.  She 
started out on her quest again.  One direction seemed as 
good as another and she continued away from the scene of 
her imprisonment.

The basically rectangular city blocks helped make her 
search more systematic as she walked down one side of 
several and then walked around the end of the block to 
come back on the opposite side.  She combined the 
inherent sense of direction and ability to smell her own 
trail from her wolf ancestry with the ability to 
conceptualise the geometrical design of the landscapes 
she was experiencing and the numerical skills to count 
her progress.  She covered five blocks then came back 
down the next five, zigzagging between the two major 
North-South thoroughfares.

It took almost four hours even though Perra ignored the 
little lanes and cul-de-sacs that would have made the 
distance even longer.  She moved at a ground-covering 
rate, running with her regular boot-clomping bounce for a 
block and a half then walking for the balance of the 
block.  She was an unusual jogger who drew quite a few 
glances and comments but it was early enough that she 
didn't meet up with the equivalent of the morning's three 
stooges; her system allowed her to keep going far longer 
than a normal jogger would have managed.  She copied 
Damien's actions and turned on a garden tap every now and 
then to get some water; she only got one objection but 
she simply ignored it with some puzzlement.  Private 
ownership, other than of a fresh kill, wasn't a wolfish 
trait.

A block of warehouses and then a linear park divided the 
suburbs from the city and Perra decided to head back to 
her starting point and continue in the other direction.  
The direct route back was far quicker.

Perra's zigzags took her past the scene of her "crime" 
and she walked rather than ran so she could see what was 
happening there.  A crowd, much smaller than in the 
morning, had gathered ghoul-like at the mere suggestion 
of a murder site and an officer had been detailed to keep 
them out for now.  It made no sense to Perra and the 
person walking in the outlandish costume didn't draw the 
same attention that the same person running would have.

The officer watching the crowd did notice the woman pause 
and tilt her head back but, other than wishing she had 
come closer so he could have seen if she really was as 
good looking as she seemed, he ignored her harmless 
behaviour.

Perra had found a trace.  Perhaps her captors HAD known 
Damien.  She sniffed the air.  It was faint and she had 
to roam around somewhat to find where it was strongest.  
It was probably the longest five minutes of her life and 
her bladder was twitching with the excitement; she had 
found him! (She hoped.)

Perra broke out into a run.  The spoor was only getting 
stronger and any delay was too long after all she felt 
she had gone through.  If she went too far and lost it 
she would only have to double back a little way but she 
was confident in her abilities.

It helped that the young man had walked in a straight 
line before turning the corner to walk past the infamous 
house.  Perra only lost Damien's scent when she had gone 
past the entrance to his building.  She immediately 
turned back and carefully followed the trail inside.

There were only three floors but of course he had to live 
on the top one.  Perra barely noticed the climb.  There 
were six doors and she went to the one that he clearly 
used and then came the dilemma.  It was close to one in 
the morning and Perra couldn't get the door to open; she 
had experience of latches and door knobs but keys were 
another matter.

"Damien."  Perra called softly.

"Damien!"  More urgently and louder when he didn't come.

"DAMIEN!!!"  She finally heard a response from behind the 
door.

It opened a little and Perra saw the familiar visage, or 
one side at least around the edge.

"Damien!"  The joy in her voice was obvious to Damien 
regardless of who she was or what she was doing there in 
the middle of the night.  She was young enough that she 
didn't seem threatening and her outfit looked familiar 
enough.  Was she someone from the estate?  Was there a 
problem?  Or was she a stalker he hadn't been aware of?  
He couldn't think of anyone like her that he had noticed.

"Yes?"

"Damien!"  The girl had calmed down at least.  He wasn't 
about to get thrown out for causing a disturbance while 
still on probation with his landlady.  He hoped.

"Wait."  That was a word Perra knew and she obediently 
waited while the door closed and the chain was removed.

When Damien swung it open with the words "Who are you and 
what do you want" on his lips he was not expecting to be 
knocked back into the room by the attractive young woman 
who threw her arms around him and began licking his neck 
and face.

Any pleasure faded when he managed to get his hands on 
her shoulders to push her away so he could see her 
properly.  Her face was still a little bloody, as was a 
sleeve and her collar where the fabric had wiped the 
fresh blood from her neck the previous morning.  Her hair 
looked a fright and she was also a little high!  Had his 
eyes been functional when he first went to the door he 
would have thought twice about opening it.  Now he asked 
the question that had been aborted.

"Who are you?"

"Perra."

"Perra?  I'm sorry, the only Perra I know is a wolf."

"Is me.  I am Perra.  I am wolf.  I am your wolf.  Your 
Perra."

Damien was seriously worried now.  This girl must have 
been at the estate without his knowledge and when he had 
been dismissed must have heard about the role Perra 
played.  Was she just some psycho who had a crush on him?  
If so she had done well to find him; he hadn't contacted 
anyone at the estate since his dismissal and he doubted 
that the person who had interviewed him would have given 
his details out to the girl before him.

Damien thought again.  "No but he would be very likely to 
pass them on to someone as powerful as my former 
employer.  This girl must have found out from him.  Damn.  
They're just as likely to come looking for her and I'll 
be in even more shit!"

Still, even in her bedraggled state, she was something to 
look at.  Damien decided it was a pity she hadn't made 
contact with him while he still worked there; some of the 
nights had been rather lonely.

"Come over here and have a seat."  He led Perra to a 
couch and got her to sit.  "Are you thirsty?"

Perra had a sense of d‚j… vu.  The last time she had sat 
in a sofa someone else had given her an unpleasant drink.  
She trusted Damien however.  "Yes Damien"

"What would you like?"

"Water, Damien"

"Okay.  I'll be back."

That was another sentence she understood and every time 
Damien had said it in the past he had spoken the truth.  
Perra relaxed.

Damien closed the door and went to the kitchen, returning 
with a glass of water and his cell phone.  He found the 
girl had discarded her work boots and was spread over the 
sofa, trying to find an accustomed position that was 
comfortable with the awkward limbs she now had.

"Here you are.  I just have to make a call."

Perra sat up again and took the glass.  She tilted it 
slightly so the water was closer to the edge and lapped 
at the surface.  Damien grimaced as he turned away and 
pressed the familiar digits into the phone.

"Hi Damien here.  Yeah, sorry it's so late Doug.  No I 
found a place and I think I have another job lined up.  
Not as glamorous that's for sure.  Listen, the reason I 
called.  Has there been anyone from the estate reported 
missing?  A teenage girl for instance?  No?  No, I just 
met someone I thought might have been from there.  I 
don't really have any reason to think she is it was just 
a funny feeling.  What!  Really?  I can't believe it.  
Maybe he's just lost it in the enclosure - it's a big 
area after all - or maybe one of the others killed it.  I 
lost one of the hyena's that way once, one of the old 
ones who got too weak.  Okay then.  Thanks and sorry 
again about bothering you."

Damien pressed the lock button and put the phone down.  
If Miss Crazy had only been reported missing he could 
have expected her to have been responsible for a missing 
animal.  But Doug only knew the count of the wolves had 
come up one short.  There was no suggestion that it was 
Perra and the new keeper probably couldn't distinguish 
between them anyway.

That still left him with a crazy, but most attractive, 
young woman in his apartment.  The woman was looking a 
little distressed.  Was she upset he had been asking 
about her?

"What's wrong?"

"Need quick piss."  She recalled Damien's comment that he 
was "... only going to have a quick piss and I'll be 
right back."  It had been accompanied by a clear smell of 
urination when he had returned and Perra had learned a 
new phrase.

"Oh.  Sorry.  It's this way."  Damien took her hand and 
helped her from the sofa and then led the way to the 
bathroom.  Shower over the tub behind a cheap green 
plastic curtain (with white seaweed and sea horses for 
some reason) and the toilet down one end of the room, 
hidden from casual view behind the door when it was open.

He turned on the light and ushered her inside.  "I'll be 
out in the lounge.  You might want to wash up as well."

He closed the door and walked away wondering who he 
should call.  Something bothered him though.  The girl's 
strange eyes certainly reminded him of a wolf's, and her 
hair had the same quality and shade of his favourite.  He 
wished her story could only be true.

---

Perra had ignored the strange seat at the end of the 
bath.  In fact none of the features, other than the taps, 
were at all familiar.  She had an urgency that would not 
have worried her in the enclosure, she would simply have 
squatted wherever was most appropriate.  She couldn't 
understand why Damien had closed her in here, he had seen 
her piss and shit on many occasions without drawing 
attention to it.

She stripped off the coveralls, finally feeling free of 
the enclosing fabric, and threw them over the handy 
toilet seat before squatting on the tiled floor.  She 
noticed the circular drain in the centre of the greyish 
tiles; it reminded her of the sluice channel at the zoo 
and the smell told her that wastes drained there so she 
moved reasonably close and a good part of the stream of 
urine went down it.  The rest puddled on the tiles 
between her arched feet.

"Oh that felt good."  Perra must have held her bladder 
closed for almost two minutes - a record for her.  She 
had NEVER needed to hold on for that long before!

"What was it Damien said?  Wash up?"

She had watched him clean up at the trough outside the 
store room so the concept wasn't foreign though it wasn't 
something she had done herself, at least as the humans 
did.

She stepped to the basin and noticed the other female 
naked there before her.  He lips automatically drew back 
in a challenge and the human bitch did the same.  "Who is 
she?  Why is she here with my Damien?"

Perra didn't know how to react - friend or foe, flight or 
fight.  Her heart was pounding just in case.  She needed 
assistance.

"Damien!"

She heard his feet hurrying in response to her urgent 
call.  There was a tapping against the door.

"Is everything okay?"

"Not okay!  Who is she?"

Perra turned back from the door to catch the other woman 
sneaking a look that way too.

"She?  Look I'm coming in, okay?"

"Okay."

The other woman mouthed the same response but Perra heard 
only her own words.

"What the?"  Damien opened the door to find the girl 
naked staring at the mirror with a familiar rictus on her 
face.  The scent of fresh urine was noticeable even to 
his poor nose and he looked down at the mess on the 
floor.

"At least she hadn't needed to shit", he thought.

None of that mattered when she turned towards him.  The 
rest could all have been strange coincidences and a 
warped mind but when Damien's eyes jumped down level 
after level of exposed breasts he began to wonder if it 
wasn't his mind that was warped.

He seriously considered her physical structure; perhaps 
that was why she thought herself a wolf.  He had heard of 
supernumerary nipples but never actual breasts.  He 
wouldn't put it past his former employer to have 
"collected" some human oddities.

Damien grew angry when he realised it would have also 
amused him to have told her she was a wolf and given her 
the name of one of his other pets.  Had she been kept 
isolated?  Was that why her speech was hard to follow at 
times and her social skills most inadequate.  Should he 
call the Police or would THEY be in his employ too?  He 
might only be sending the girl back into a life of 
misery.

"Who is she?" Perra repeated, breaking into his reverie 
as she stabbed her finger at the mirror.

Damien looked at the reflection.

"It's only you."  He came up to stand beside her, 
avoiding the puddle, and a man looking just like him 
moved to stand beside the other woman.

"Look" he said and began to wave his hand about.  His 
double did the same.

"Put your hand here."  Damien took Perra's warm hand in 
his and stretched it over the basin to touch the cold 
glass surface.

Perra had been wary when the other girl put her hand out 
as well but when she found it was a cold hard surface she 
was touching and not someone's warm soft fingers she 
started to understand a little.

"Like in water?"

"Yes" said Damien, "like looking into your reflection in 
the water.  It is you."  He pointed at her and then at 
her reflection and Perra noticeably calmed, breaking out 
into a most human smile.

"And now I think we should clean you up.  But first..."

Damien got a plastic jug that had come with the bathroom 
and part filled it with water.

"Excuse me."  He pulled Perra over to one side and washed 
the remaining piss down the drain.

"Oh!" she said.  "Wash ground after piss.  Okay."

Perra was willing to learn the right way to behave as a 
human.  Damien wasn't quite ready to give her all THOSE 
lessons.  He still didn't know what to make of her.

He had to admit that she was beautiful behind the grubby 
face, and body now he could see it.  The extra breasts 
were simply unbelievable to see and his mouth watered 
with a Pavlovian response that had nothing to do with 
ringing bells.

Damien considered his options.  She wasn't concerned with 
her own nudity before him and she really DID need more 
than just a face washer.

"How about I run you a bath?"

That confused her.  Hadn't she done enough running?  
Where did Damien want to run?  Did he want her to run 
with him?  And what was a bath?  It showed on her face.

"I'll put water in the bath", he patted the side, "so you 
can wash.  Okay?"

If Damien said so, Perra would do it.  "Okay"

She watched with interest as he put a plug into the round 
hole, it's redness contrasting against the shiny white 
enamel of the bath and it's rubber smell noticeable 
through the mingled scents when she focussed on it.

Damien let the water rise, testing the temperature 
occasionally.

"There, I think that should be okay.  Do you want me to 
leave you alone?"

"Alone!  Not effin likely."  Perra used the expletive 
just as Damien had used it in front of her.  She did not 
want to be alone after taking all this trouble to find 
her Damien.

Damien was shocked, not by the language but by the force 
of the girl's emotion.  She quite clearly wanted his 
company and he just wondered what he was getting himself 
into.

"Okay.  Why don't you just pop into the tub then.  Er, 
sit in the bath please."  He wondered why she could 
understand some sentences and then seemed totally 
bewildered by others.  He watched as she climbed in, 
gingerly testing the water, before turning to get both 
soap and flannel.  Damien was aware of the erection in 
his shorts, hidden only by his robe, and he hoped it 
subsided before the girl noticed.

His interest changed from prurience to concern when he 
got a clear view of the dark bruise and the wound on her 
arm.

"What happened here?"

He pointed and Perra looked.  She couldn't remember the 
work Al had used - it had only been said once and she had 
been rather involved in other matters at the time.

"Was not knife."

Perra had not even associated the bang with the weapon.  
Her description wasn't helpful and she couldn't add 
anything extra.  Damien wasn't familiar with gunshot 
wounds either.  She could have been skewered with 
something round; perhaps a point on top of a fence.  It 
LOOKED clean and wasn't bleeding.  If she had been shot 
it must have been a small calibre bullet as it had passed 
right through without chewing things up.  Regardless of 
the cause, if Perra had suffered any serious damage 
Damien was sure she would be doing more than holding that 
arm still by her side most of the time.

Unless he planned on hauling her to the nearest hospital 
it was going to be better to ignore it for now.  After 
all there was the same likelihood that anyone important 
there would be under the thumb of the "benefactor" 
(Damien sneered at the label now) as the Police.  It was 
easy to become paranoid and start seeing conspiracies 
once you started.

He took a deep breath and decided to return to more 
mundane matters.  Damien extended his hand.

"Here you are."  Once again the girl seemed ignorant of 
the purpose of the two items, sniffing them and almost 
about to bite the soap before Damien gently stopped her.

"Would you like me to wash you?"  "Perhaps at least start 
her off so she can take over", he added to himself.

Perra relinquished them and Damien soaped up the flannel 
then carefully wiped it over the girl's grubby chin and 
cheek.

He did her chest, where the blood had crusted, and her 
back, and then got her to raise her arms one at a time 
while he washed the sweat from her armpits.  Then he 
chickened out.  It would be bad enough soaping and then 
rinsing ONE pair of firm young breasts but if he had to 
work his way through eight perfectly formed, though 
shallow, mounds he would not be able to control his own 
throbbing protrusion.

Perra had appeared in the middle of the night looking 
rather abandoned.  Damien decided to try to avoid a 
confrontation he wasn't yet ready for.

"Are you hungry?  Perhaps I can get you something to eat 
while you finish off?"

He had looked at her hair and decided it could get by 
with just a brush for now.  If he DID need to call in the 
Police a clean body might not be worth commenting about 
but wet hair might raise some questions that may be 
harder to answer.

"What would you like?"

"Goat or sheep is okay.  Anything."

"Hmm.  I don't think I have any goat or sheep so it might 
have to be anything.  I'll leave the door open so call me 
when you're ready to get out."

Shaking his head at the girl's insistence in staying in a 
character he was half convinced was real, Damien took a 
detour into his bedroom to get an oversize t-shirt he 
sometimes sat around in during the evenings when he 
wasn't comfortable being naked and yet didn't want to get 
dressed again.  The overalls looked like they needed a 
wash so she might as well wear his clothes for now.

He threw it over a chair and raided the refrigerator.

Perra called as he was still getting the ingredients 
assembled and he took the "nightgown" into the bathroom.

Once again, having been helped out of the bath, Perra 
watched closely as her Damien pulled out the plug and the 
now soapy water spiralled away.

Damien used his own towel to dry his guest, willing this 
time to pat down each mammary in addition to drying her 
pert behind and each pale thigh.  Like Al before him he 
observed the fine coating of straight grey-black hair 
over her pubes as he worked on her knees and calves.  
Perra could scent his growing arousal and smiled as she 
looked down on his head.

He WAS her Damien.  She would be HIS Perra.

Perra accepted the garment; it was certainly softer than 
the discarded overalls and the carpet in the lounge was 
much nicer underfoot than having to wear those heavy 
boots.

As he stood looking at her, and the way the t-shirt 
rippled all the way down her front Perra stepped closer 
and once again licked his cheek.  She inhaled his 
maleness and noticed his shivered response.  Why then did 
he back away?

"Come on.  Let's get you some food.  When did you last 
eat?"

Perra thought back.  She had no concept of hours though 
she recognised the short time period of "just be a 
minute".  She did understand the parts of the day though.

"Last night."  Gabe's member hadn't been all that 
nourishing and Al's throat had been gristly.  Perra had 
spent a lot of time and energy tracking Damien down and 
she WAS hungry.

"Bacon and eggs on toast okay?"  It was simple and quick 
and not usually objectionable.

"I don't know.  What is bacon-and-eggs-on-toast?"

The more Perra spoke the easier it was for Damien to 
understand her speech.  She didn't seem quite as 
incapacitated as he had first suspected but then she 
would come out with a comment like that.  He wondered 
once again what the girl's story really was.

"This is bacon, these are eggs, and this will become 
toast."  He held up each item in turn.

Perra wasn't interested in the toast.  The eggs were 
unfamiliar but smelt somehow okay.  She took the bacon 
and peeled back the plastic.  It was just like the 
overalls she had worn.

"Clothes for food!" she thought with amusement.

She bent her head over the package and sniffed audibly.  
It seemed okay though the animal must have been terribly 
unfit; it was full of fat.  Before Damien could stop her 
Perra had taken a bite of the raw stack of rashers.

Or at least she had tried to.  Her human jaws could not 
slice through the tough rind and she had to pull the meat 
off of the string-like strands.  It was saltier than she 
had expected and she chewed quickly.  Swallowing she 
turned to Damien.

"More water Damien."

"Holy cow!  You're supposed to cook it first."

He put her glass under the tap and half-filled it again.

"Here you are.  Let me have that, I think you might 
prefer how I make it."

Perra watched as Damien separated the rashers and dropped 
them into a hot frying pan.  A couple of minutes later he 
cracked the eggs and dropped them into the grease that 
had been released from the bacon.  Perra had to admit the 
smells that were issuing from Damien's cooking were 
enticing.

A pop behind her had her turning quickly to face the 
unexpected danger.  Damien looked up to see the snarl 
disappearing from his guest's face as she realised it was 
the toaster.

"Careful!"  Perra had been reaching out her hand.

"It is hot, see."  He carefully held her hand above the 
toaster.  Perra drew it back quickly then watched as 
Damien lifted out the two slices of toast and dropped 
them onto a plate before waving his hands about.

"Ouch.  I guess I'm the one who should be careful."

Perra took his hand in hers and ran her tongue over the 
tips of his fingers.  Though she hadn't intended it that 
way Damien found her action highly erotic.

"Er.  Thanks.  Have a seat at the table and I'll dish 
this up."

Perra followed enough of his direction to understand what 
SHE was supposed to do though she didn't understand what 
Damien had in mind.

Sitting in the chair was not dissimilar to sitting on the 
couch; the padding on her rump made up for the lack of 
padding on the seat.  Perra was used to sitting, or 
rather lying, on more uncomfortable sites though and made 
no complaint.

She was not prepared for the plate of hot food placed 
before her however.  The cutlery that Damien added either 
side was even more confusing.  One item looked like a 
knife but the blade was small and rounded.

Perra bent to eat the food directly from the plate but 
Damien, watching for such behaviour, stopped her.

"Here.  Like this."

He took the knife and fork and cut through egg bacon and 
toast, skewering a little of each on the fork.  He held 
it up to Perra's mouth.

"Don't bite down too hard.  Just pull the food off and 
eat it."

Perra opened her mouth and let her teeth scrape lightly 
over the tines.  Oh it did taste nicer than the salty 
bacon.

"It is good Damien."

"You try now."

Perra took the utensils and tried to copy Damien.

"Oops!"  Damien rescued the scraps that had shot off the 
side of the plate, returning them for the girl to place 
on the end of her fork.  His smile was encouraging rather 
than expressing ridicule and Perra tried harder to please 
him.

Soon she was managing with infrequent mishaps.  Damien 
left her to get a coffee for himself, Perra keeping to 
her water.  He sat again in time to show her how to use 
the last fragments of the bread to mop up any yolk or 
grease on the plate then took her hand so he could get to 
the bottom of her appearance at his door.

"You say your name is Perra.  So, Perra, how about you 
tell me where you came from and how you got here."

"Come from Home.  You not there any more and I miss you.  
My family not want me and try to kill me so I open gate 
and go.  Look for you and find smell.  Follow here.  Now 
my Damien."

"Who are your family, Perra?"

"Damien.  No more family.  Just Damien.  I your Perra."

"And you are a wolf?"

"Wolf yes no.  Can be wolf.  You want wolf?"

Damien thought.  It was a crazy story but one that the 
evidence seemed to support.  HE certainly had missed the 
gentle she-wolf that had befriended him; it was probable 
that she felt the same.  But how?!

"I think it might be necessary.  Er, yes.  Can you show 
me the wolf?"

"Wolf then this girl?"  Perra pointed to herself.

"Okay.  Yes, back to this girl.  Can you do that?"  
Damien wondered if Perra planned a variation of the old 
"Quickest Draw in the West" joke - Want to see it again?

Perra didn't answer.  Damien simply found the hand in his 
changing to a furry paw.  It was a smooth change over 
only a couple of seconds and then it was his old friend 
sitting on the chair with her paws on the table.  She 
started to slide off since she no longer had buttocks to 
support her.  Damien released her paw and steadied her 
torso instead.  She was suddenly changing back and Damien 
was conscious of his hand on one of her breasts while the 
other was on her back.

"Wolf okay?  Girl okay?"

Damien grinned.  It was absolutely unbelievable.  He let 
go of her and sat back in his chair.

"Yes Perra.  Both okay."

He had no idea how it had happened or why it had 
happened; whether it was something new or something she, 
or perhaps just others, had been able to do for a long 
while.  And, if he was now to believe everything she had 
said earlier, Perra had apparently decided that they  
represented a new pack - a very small one; comprised of 
him and an incredibly attractive, in both forms, young 
"lady".

Damien wasn't about to send her away, or to take her back 
to a pack that wouldn't accept her, presumably due to her 
unusual (he wouldn't say unnatural) abilities.  He 
certainly couldn't see himself turning up back at the 
estate with her.  Even if they believed him (and he still 
wasn't sure whether or not they already knew of her 
abilities), they would certainly treat her as a curiosity 
rather than as a person; and he would probably NOT be 
allowed to see her.

No.  His former employer might have owned a wolf.  Perra 
was not a possession if she was a girl.  He felt like the 
stereotypical little boy who had been followed home by a 
stray - "Can I keep her?" - but had he adopted her or she 
him; and what were the implications.  One thing he could 
be sure of, life was not going to be dull.

As he stacked the dishes in the sink (they could wait 
until morning) Damien couldn't help but wonder how calmly 
he was taking the wondrous revelation.  It wasn't that he 
didn't appreciate the magnitude of Perra's situation it 
was just that he could see how badly things could turn 
out for her should her story become public.  For himself 
the danger was far less and he didn't even think of what 
could happen there.

"I'm sorry but it's almost three and I think I'm 
suffering from the let down after all tonight's 
excitement.  I hope I don't offend you but I need some 
sleep."

Perra could appreciate that.  She was tired from her 
unusual exercise and was quite happy to snuggle down with 
her Damien.

"Perra sleep too."

That made Damien consider the nature of his apartment.  
It had come with a double bed but otherwise really only 
consisted of the one bedroom, the kitchen, bathroom and 
lounge.  He didn't even have the makings for another bed 
on the couch which wasn't really long enough to sleep on 
comfortably.  Oh well, the gracious host sleeping on the 
couch in the movies wasn't likely in reality anyway.

"Okay then, let's both get some shut eye."

Perra thought that term was most appropriate; they would 
be shutting their eyes wouldn't they.  She added it to 
her growing vocabulary.

"Just be a minute."  She headed into the dark bathroom.

"Wait!"  Damien's call halted her just before she 
squatted over the drain.  "Er, we do things a little 
differently."  THIS was getting embarrassing.

He had to keep telling himself that the attractive young 
girl in front of him had the upbringing of a wolf; she, 
unlike himself, was not as squeamish about natural bodily 
functions.

Damien demonstrated firstly how to turn the light on and 
off and then how the lid on the toilet lifted.  He turned 
Perra around, thankful that she was only wearing the 
large t-shirt, and sat her down, hoisting the back of the 
garment up as she descended onto the white plastic ring.

"NOW you can go."

Perra, puzzled, began to stand.  Where was she supposed 
to go TO?

"Sorry.  No."  Damien pushed on her shoulders to keep her 
seated.  "Don't squat there", he pointed at the drain.  
"Piss in here instead."

She knew "piss"; she had used the term earlier.  What 
about "shit"?

"Do you understand 'shit'?  We shit in here too.  Do you 
need to shit?"

Damien should have realised that she would have tried 
earlier if she had.  Animals didn't hold on like humans, 
at most moving away from where they lived or ate, or 
perhaps going far enough to stop predators finding where 
they lived.  If she was going to live as a human that 
would have to change.

Perra shook her head as Damien heard the stream of piss 
hitting the water.  She couldn't understand why his 
cheeks reddened.

She finished and stood, realising that her body was damp.  
It wasn't a problem she had encountered in her other 
form.  Fortunately Damien had a younger sister and, 
following a show and tell session when they had both been 
much, much younger, he did understand what girls did 
after they had been.  He pulled of five or six sheets of 
paper and folded them into a loose wad.

"Wipe yourself dry", he demonstrated on her arm and then 
pointed between her legs.  "Now drop it in there, and we 
press this button."

Perra watched with interest as the water swept the paper 
away.  Damien closed the lid and led her over to the 
basin to wash her hands.  It was just like having to deal 
with his little nephew; like Perra, HE didn't understand 
why the adults wanted him to do things like wash all the 
time.

Damien ignored teeth brushing.  If Perra hadn't up until 
then, one more day wouldn't matter and it wasn't as if 
she had doggy breath.  He kept telling himself he would 
have to stop thinking that way!  He had certainly 
respected the wolves in his care; they were better than 
many humans.

He indicated to Perra that she should turn off the light 
as he didn't need the practise and then he led her by the 
hand to his bedroom.

Damien was attracted to Perra and her unusual nature did 
not alter his feelings.  He was not interested in carnal 
activities tonight though; the night had been full of 
unexpected and very unusual incidents and he was not yet 
sure of what Perra felt for him.  Was he to be brother, 
friend or lover?  It could wait until morning, only a few 
hours away.

He climbed in next to Perra and she snuggled against him, 
pleased how their human bodies fitted together.  After 
the difficulties in finding him she was happy that he had 
welcomed her; until then she hadn't thought about what 
she would do if he hadn't.  That all was well came as a 
relief that comforted her as they drifted off together.

---

Damien was used to sleeping throughout the night, Perra 
wasn't.  Two hours after they had lain down together she 
was alert again.

She was feeling very warm towards Damien.  He had always 
been friendly towards her and now she was like him, she 
found him attractive as a mate rather than just a friend.

She knew what wolves would have done but then it would 
have been a male response to the pheromones issuing from 
a bitch in heat.  Perra wasn't in heat yet still found 
she was eager for sex.  Since that had been her nature 
all along she didn't find it unusual but she was 
confused.  It was as though she had been a schoolgirl 
hearing all sorts of erroneous stories and then finding 
out things didn't work the way she expected.

Perra didn't know what to do.  Raising her tail to give 
Damien access to her presented hindquarters wasn't going 
to work, especially since she hadn't got a tail at the 
moment.  She had to think what humans might do.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortuitously, Perra had had one 
encounter to give her some clues.  She had found how much 
more relevant her sense of touch was with these strange 
replacements to her paws.  Useless for running or digging 
they were so much more useful in holding or touching and 
Perra found her way up the loose leg of the shorts Damien 
had worn to bed.  She could feel the appendage between 
Damien's legs firming as she gently felt its shape.

Love is not an emotion that one would normally attribute 
to a pair of wolves but few would doubt its expression 
between dog and owner.  That tended to be a non-carnal 
love of fellow pack members with the dog acknowledging 
the human as top dog in the pack.

Perra's unusual changes meant she was able to experience, 
or rather to recognise and appreciate that she did 
experience, a love much closer to the human romantic 
ideal.  She loved Damien and she wanted to show him how 
much.  Gabe had sought her mouth, to his ultimate regret; 
now Perra sought Damien with hers.

She turned in the bed and knelt beside his head so she 
could rest her face in his crotch, lapping at the bald 
head that poked from the scrunched up pants leg.

It twitched and she smiled, a very human smile rather 
than the aggressive baring of fangs that would have been 
the interpretation of a similar gesture in wolf form.

Perra's human lips were better suited to sliding along 
the pole, her tongue softer against the surface.  Damien 
stirred, his sleep being disturbed by erotic dreams that 
mimicked his reality.

Perra found it natural to roll her tongue back and forth, 
suckling on the massive teat as though she was still a 
pup at her mother's side and when, unexpectedly, there 
was an explosive release in her mouth.  She gulped the 
emission, literally wolfing it down, as Damien finally 
registered it had not just been a dream.

"Wha? Huh? P'ra?"

Damien was conscious of the bare leg beside his cheek as 
he realised Perra was still licking on his penis.  It was 
getting hard to take; ticklish rather than erotic.  He 
turned and kissed the soft thigh and then ran his tongue 
over the warm flesh.  Perra realised he was awake and 
crawled up over him to say her hellos.

There was just enough light for them to see each other's 
smiling faces.

"Good morning Perra.  That was nice."

"Good morning Damien."  She licked his jaw line.

"We have another way of doing that you might like."  He 
took Perra's jaw in his own hand and brought her lips to 
his.

Perra realised that lips were wonderful.  She had never 
expected that touching them together would feel so good.  
She wanted more of it.

It took her only a little while to find out that a 
variation in pressure could be equally interesting and 
Damien found himself the willing object of Perra's 
passionate attentions.  He wrapped his arms around her, 
sensitive of the multiple pressures against his abdomen; 
he would have to investigate those remarkable breasts!

When Perra eased up Damien pressed his tongue between her 
lips.  The worm wriggling its way into her mouth amused 
her and she laughed against HER Damien's lips.  There was 
no doubt in her mind now.  Damien took the opportunity to 
delve deeper and now his tongue was pressing against 
Perra's.  Her laughter ceased as she closed her mouth 
against the fat intruder and pressed back.

She had learned a new trick and was soon busily 
investigating Damien's mouth.  They fought back and 
forth, both getting worked up.  All of a sudden Perra 
pushed herself off of Damien.

"What's wrong?" he began but then he noticed the pale 
orbs of her ass cheeks as she turned away from him and 
bent over the covers.  She was offering herself in the 
only way she knew as "normal".

Damien had his lover's lupine nature brought dramatically 
before him, literally thrust in his face.  Did her animal 
nature matter?  Did it matter to HIM?

It wasn't lust that made him decide, though he was quite 
aware that he did lust for her.  It wasn't quite love, in 
terms of "must have you ever after" - it was too soon for 
that regardless of stories of soul mates and love at 
first sight.  It was a willingness to accept Perra's 
offer of herself and a recognition of her own need for 
fulfilment and an understanding that, should he not be 
able to make a lasting commitment he was nevertheless 
taking on a serious responsibility for the girl.

Damien moved behind the girl, running his hand over her 
buttock, causing her to shiver at his touch.  His thumb 
pressed softly into the crease between puffed lips.  
There could be no doubt of her arousal, the moist 
evidence showed that.  He eased his thumb deeper into the 
furrow and, with minimal manipulation, found the warm 
channel.  There was no difficulty in pressing it deeper 
though Perra did wince as it brushed an area not yet 
healed.  It felt good and she had no fear that her Damien 
would cause the lancing pain that the late and unlamented 
Al had unwittingly inflicted.

Damien pulled out his thumb and held it to his nose.  He 
may not have been able to pick up the subtleties that a 
wolf could but the juices smelled absolutely wonderful to 
him.

Damien moved behind Perra and positioned the head of his 
prick where his thumb had been.  It had been a long time 
since he had fucked someone and longer still since he had 
felt as close to a lover.  He was fitted in place and 
began a slow, deliciously excruciating, slide into his 
one and only wolf-girl.  Perra pressed back as she felt 
him filling her, so wonderfully smooth an entrance she 
could not breathe in anticipation of each tiny movement.

"No!"  He was pulling out.  That COULDN'T be it; not over 
yet surely?.  It felt TOO good.  Perra's hips pressed 
back as she tried to stop the loss of the hard prick from 
inside her.  Damien's hands on her hips stopped her 
progress.  What was wrong?  Didn't he WANT to mate with 
her?  Was it because she wasn't in season?

If he hadn't been trying to take things as easily as he 
had Perra might have felt his thrust back into her before 
she could have started doubting him.  Instead the 
quelling of her doubts made the joy of the next slow 
thrust even greater.

Now when he pulled back she cooperated and noticed his 
not-so-subtle pressure on her hips.  When his hands 
pulled back again she rocked her body with them and his 
thrust was faster, more forceful.  THAT was what she 
needed!

Though she had never had the weight of another wolf 
resting on her back with his paws over her shoulders and 
his breath in her ear, the lack of such sensations seemed 
to suggest something was missing.  Since it was her first 
true fuck she was too bound up in new sensations to 
register it until later.  For now she simple became a 
cylinder for Damien's piston.  There was no governor on 
their engine and both worked harder and harder until 
flesh was slapping against flesh.  They would have the 
opportunity to learn slow and gently lovemaking but this 
time it was all urgency and a need for release NOW!

Damien's second release came just before sunrise and woke 
the neighbours.  It wasn't really Perra's fault; she had 
no reason to suppress her joy and it was only unfortunate 
that her need to howl caused the transformation that 
allowed her to do so.

The guttural cry, repeated loudly, turned into a 
satisfied whine as Perra realised it was over.  Damien 
found himself holding her furry flanks with his prick 
pressed into an animal's rear.  He could only hope no-one 
broke his door down right at this moment.

"I swear officer she WAS a girl!"  He could just see it.

One thing he found was that, as a wolf, Perra was much 
tighter.  She also seemed rather silly wearing his 
t-shirt.  He gave a short laugh as he was squeezed from 
the much warmer vagina.  An unbelievable ending to an 
unbelievable night.

It wasn't over.  Perra turned and licked his face.  Not 
unusual.  But then she pressed her muzzle against his 
mouth and her long canine tongue slid between his lips 
before he could register.  It was unexpected and he quite 
understandably moved away.  Then he recalled the story 
that a dog's mouth is naturally clean and hoped both that 
the story was correct and that it applied to wolves as 
well.  Perra's tongue certainly wasn't tainted and it 
wasn't as if she had the stringy slobber of a hound dog 
(which wasn't that different from his nephew now he 
thought of it).  He had paused for just a second and 
reached up to take Perra's head between his hands.  He 
returned the kiss, caressing the long and raspy tongue 
with his own.

Perra realised her muzzle didn't quite match her lover's 
and once again transformed back, happy that she had at 
least that much control over when she changed, and Damien 
found himself kissing a very human and very happy Perra.  
He fell back and pulled her on top of him.  Perhaps they 
could have another little nap in each other's arms and 
then maybe repeat the performance before breakfast.

Damien wondered if Perra would enjoy other positions.  
For ever after this one would be wolfy style for him.

*********************************************************