Gathering Storm (Wendigo)

Frosticle Sep 27th, 2017 (edited) 1,736 Never
Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!
  1. Tags:
  2. Wendigo, Smut, Loli
  4. -------------------------------------
  6. The wind howled as the man pushed on through the storm, the waist high snow doing its damnedest to pull him to his knees and envelop him. Stopping behind a small conifer to shield himself from the wind, Maurice pulled his cloak tighter and breathed into his hands to warm them, the frost growing on his beard melting as well.
  8. The storm had come seemingly out of nowhere, the blizzard catching him surprised and unprepared as he travelled through mountain pass northward to the next town over. Looking around, the man attempted to make out the direction he was heading in, but the heavy snow prevented him from seeing just a few meters beyond where he stood.
  10. With eyelashes encased in snow Maurice started out again, trudging along in great, effortful steps..
  12. “Aaaa…………Aahhhhnnnaaaaaa………”
  14. A distant, shrill sound stopped him dead in his tracks, a sound far clearer and more otherworldly than the howling winds it faded into. Turning around, he scanned through the storm, trying to make sense out of what he just heard.
  16. Adjusting the pack slung over his shoulders and pulling his cloak tighter, he trekked on through the snow, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind and instead focusing on keeping on, and keeping warm. Occasionally, he would stop and turn to look behind him, a sense of unease creeping into the back of his skull with its spindly tendrils.
  18. “………annnnn…heeeeeee…………………………awwwwwww……”
  20. Maurice halted again, hearing the same shrieking sound cutting in and out through the wind, this time from in front instead of behind. Pausing for just a second, the man bolted to his left, walking as quickly as his stiff legs could carry him as he stumbled blindly through the snow. While he moved, the sound trailed off into the distance until disappearing completely, leaving him alone once more. He slowed down, pulling his cloak tighter around him.
  22. He knew it was nothing more than the storm playing tricks on him, which when coupled with his exhausted mind, surely was the only explanation. He had set out from the town alone, not heeding the warnings of the town's inhabitants to not venture into the mountain pass for fear of an oncoming storm, so he knew there was no one trailing him, and even if someone was, there was absolutely no way to track him through the storm.
  24. Minutes of walking later, the sound rang out again, this time even closer and in the new direction he was walking, freezing him in place.
  26. “Waaaaaaaaa…………………caaaa…………”
  28. A break in the whipping snowfall revealed a shrouded figure, standing impossibly still directly between two trees and undisturbed by the same winds that caused them to bend at worrying angles. Another sudden gust of wind drove Maurice to one knee, the snow blinding him. When his eyes cleared, the figure was gone.
  30. A trick from his exhaustion, or something more? He tried to reason with himself despite his foggy and panicked mind, rising once more to his feet and carrying on, this time in the opposite direction of the figure he may had seen. A small thought nagged at the back of his mind, of a tale he had heard a while ago from one of the native men who would visit town every so often for trading; the tale of the Wendigo.
  32. It was something that at the time he never thought of much, thinking it to be just that, a tale. But he was no longer thinking reasonably, exhaustion and panic making him recall the worst of the story: the creature had gaunt and sickly-looking grey skin without an ounce of meat beneath it, giving it the appearance of a walking skeleton shrouded in the fur and skin of what it had killed. Stalking the snowscapes in an insatiable hunger, the Wendigo would follow and eventually run down its victims, ripping them apart and consuming them in a vain attempt to satisfy its craving for flesh.
  34. Directions were meaningless now as he weaved from tree to tree, Maurice having to take frequent breaks to brace himself as he desperately searched for something, anything to give him shelter from the blizzard, and potentially, that figure.
  36. Fingers digging into the frozen bark of a tree, the man braced his forehead against it and clung tightly, trying to calm his racing heart.
  38. “Aaaaaa……whaaaaaa..soooommmmmaaaaaa….”
  40. The shrill sound came again, changing in intonation and intensity as if it was gradually moving closer and closer to where he had collapsed.
  42. Peering around the tree and taking in a shaky breath, the ever-increasing winds caused him to cringe as his hood was blown off his head, exposing him fully now to the cold. Raising a hand in front of him, as if the storm would suddenly cease at his command, he somehow found the power to rise to his feet and push off the tree.
  44. “Saaaaaaaawwwwwaaaaaaa…”
  46. He found the shrouded figure from before standing in front of him just a short distance away, it being the obvious source of the almost sing-song sound.
  48. No more than five feet in height, the cloaked figure stood unfazed by the winds battering against it. A pair of small, just beginning to branch horns sprouted from the top of the figure, much like that of a young caribou or elk. Down the front of the figure was a small seam, its fluffy exterior somehow free of snow.
  50. He took a step back while staring at the thing, but as his leg sunk into the building snow, the front of the figure opened in the same way as one would open a coat, revealing a deep, seemingly unending darkness.
  52. And from that darkness came a lithe, pale arm reaching out towards Maurice, one he did not see as he collapsed backwards into the snow, unconscious.
  54. -------------------------------------
  56. To even open his eyes was far too much effort, the hard ground he rested on unexpectedly providing some sense of comfort as he laid exhausted, some sort of small weight on his chest.
  58. Limbs numb, he was left with just his hearing to make out what was going on. Distant howling winds, the snapping and crackling of a fire, and light, quick breaths that washed across his cheeks and neck were all he could make out. At the same time, what seemed to be dainty fingers explored his jawline, pressing and stroking him lightly through his beard. The weight on his chest would shift every so often along with the fingers and breathing, too, eventually moving to his hair and ears respectively.
  60. Maurice shuddered as hot air washed over his left ear, the small hands letting go of his hair as the weight shifted again.
  62. And then warmth.
  64. As if he had been wrapped up in a blanket left beside a fire for just the right amount of time, heat and softness enveloped his body, the light weight pushing back down on his chest.
  66. Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, he struggled to open his eyes, a faint glimmer of blue catching his attention as hot breath washed over him again. Even in the low light, he could swear that he could make out the features of the person laying on him, her blue eyes, ones hiding behind white bangs, were full of joy, her mouth upturned in a delicate smile and her pale skin flushed a deep red.
  68. Losing strength again, his head slowly fell backwards, but instead of onto hard ground, it fell upon some far softer this time.
  70. Drifting off into the dark, the last thing Maurice felt was a small kiss on his cheek.
  72. -------------------------------------
  74. He awoke to crackling again, but was this time devoid of the small weight on his chest.
  76. Blinking rapidly to clear his bleary vision, the sight of the fire that was warming his one side caught his eye first, its heat and the heavy, soft fur pelts he was shrouded in attempting to lull him back to sleep.
  78. But lull him to sleep they wouldn't, the sharp and cold air freezing his exposed face and chest as he sat up, bringing a pelt with him to cover his shoulders. Yawning, Maurice stared out over the fire and through the mouth of the small cave he found himself in, bag, cloak, and clothes resting some distance away, obviously having been rummaged through.
  80. The forest was just visible outside the mouth of the cave, the brilliant shine of the snow-covered ground illuminating the cave and signalling the arrival of a hopefully blizzard-less day.
  82. Echoing through the cave, however, was not just the sounds of the dwindling fire by his side. A small, high-pitched grunting was also ringing out from just outside.
  84. Curiosity sparked, he rose to his feet, hastily donning some of his clothes and his boots to stumble outside, a particularly warm pelt still sitting on his shoulders. The bright snow blinded him at first, and he had to take a minute to adjust again to his unfamiliar surroundings.
  86. The figure was back, but this time with company. A trail of blood led off into the woods, a dead caribou standing in-between him and the shrouded person, whose footprints in the snow were confusingly absent.
  88. Covered completely by its hood, it shuffled around to the head of the caribou, cloak parting slightly to reveal its arms reaching out. Pale hands grabbing hold of the carcass' antlers, they somehow managed to begin dragging it towards the mouth of the cave despite it practically dwarfing them in size.
  90. As they shuffled past Maurice with the caribou in tow, he was able to catch a glimpse of who it was for the first time, swearing that he recognized her. Only the pale face and arms of the young girl were exposed from beneath the coat, her blue-white hair shimmering slightly in the sunlight. She gave Maurice a small smile before letting go of the caribou beside the fire, it's head settling down with an unceremonious thud on the frozen ground.
  92. Trotting over to where he stood, the blue-eyed girl reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling shyly as she dragged him towards the fire. With a push, he found himself once more sitting on the small collection of furs, the girl walking back over to the caribou to leave him alone and confused.
  94. Maurice held his hands out towards the source of warmth, having grown cold from the short time he was away, when a sickly tearing sound, accompanied by a girlish grunting, startled him.
  96. Turning towards her, Maurice recoiled slightly at the sight of her tearing through the underbelly of what he presumed to be her kill, blood and entrails spilling out onto the frozen stone flooring of the cave. Timidly, the girl held out a fistful of meat towards him, smiling shyly and partly hiding behind her coat as blood dripped off her hand and pooled on the ground below.
  98. Against his better judgement, Maurice reached out and took the hunk of red meat from the girl, turning towards the fire to search for a way to cook it while she turned back to the caribou, the long tail that jutted out from a hole in her coat flicking to and fro behind her. Finding a stick cast off to the side, Maurice quickly stripped it of its bark and branches, spearing the meat and holding it over the fire to begin cooking.
  100. “No!” A shrill cry caused him to wince, a weight slamming into his side as his hand was wrenched away from the fire. The girl struggled to pry open Maurice’s hand, her nails digging in so sharply that he was forced to relent, the girl snatching away the meat, clutching it to her chest. “What are you doing!?” She shouted at him as she scowled, tearing a bite from the meat and beginning to chew.
  102. Maurice sat stunned for a few moments, watching her make quick work of what was supposed to be his food. As the chunk of meat in her hands whittled away to nothing, the girl’s expression began to soften, eventually to the point where she was barely able to look at the man out of embarrassment, retreating into her coat.
  104. “I’m sorry.” She said meekly into the hem of her coat, her words barely a whisper above the crackling of the fire.
  106. “It’s… alright.” Maurice reluctantly comforted her, still slightly wary of her reaction.
  108. “W-Why were you burning the meat, though?” The girl continued, having relaxed from realizing that Maurice was not angry. “I just got it for you, and then you… you…”
  110. He studied the girl for a few moments as she stared back at him, still confused by her aversion to him preparing his meal. “I was just cooking the meat, that’s how you’re supposed to do it.”
  112. She shot him a shocked and almost disgusted glance, once again retreating almost fully into her coat. All Maurice could hear was a muffled “Weird.” as she stood up, walking back to the dead caribou to begin carving at it again.
  114. A short while later, one that was filled with silence between the two, Maurice found himself pulling his meat out of the fire, outside slightly burned, but thankfully finding the inside cooked well when he tore it down the middle. As he chewed on the still hot meat, he immersed himself in thought while watching the girl tend to her own food. “What’s your name? And what's with that coat you're wearing?” He asked suddenly, the girl startling slightly at his question.
  116. She eyed him for a few moments from behind her coat before speaking up. “Ittakka. I'm a Wendigo, and I found you in that storm last night. I dragged you here after you collapsed to save you.”
  118. Maurice's heart sank at the mention of the word 'Wendigo', but the girl's calm demeanor, one completely unlike the myths he had heard, as well as the news that she was the one who saved him helping him relax. "And the coat?"
  120. Her eyes jumped to his, a look of confusion spreading on her face. "I've always had it..." Ittakka replied reluctantly, said coat being pulled tighter around her body.
  122. “Well then I’m Maurice, thank you for saving me, Ittakka.” He replied, ignoring her vague explanation.
  124. Turning back to the rest of his meal, Maurice pulled the pelt slung over his shoulders a little tighter and scooted closer to the fire, seeing movement from the corner of his eye as Ittakka stood and began walking behind him. Suddenly, he felt the pelt around his shoulders get whisked off, being replaced in an instant by a far softer and warmer feeling, the girl pressing hard into his back. Her breathing tickled his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder and covered part of him with her coat, lithe arms wrapping around his torso in a warm embrace.
  126. “Feeling better?” Ittakka asked in her light, almost airy voice, Maurice shivering from the sensation of hot breath washing along his neck. Looking down towards her hands, he saw that she had left a few streaks of blood across his chest, small arms struggling to wrap around him.
  128. “Much better thanks to you.” He replied, enjoying the soft embrace she provided. “I really thought that I was…” He trailed off and took another bite of the meat, a lump forming in his throat at the memory of the day before.
  130. Sensing his unease, Ittakka hugged him even tighter, kissing his bearded cheek softly, much to Maurice’s surprise. “You were in trouble,” the Wendigo agreed, her coat and body heat still warming Maurice to his very core. “I-I tried my best to guide you out with my voice, but I guess I didn’t do too well, did I?”
  132. Maurice looked over his shoulder at the girl, sporting a smile in an attempt to cheer her up. “The fact that I’m still alive says otherwise, doesn’t it?”
  134. Her blue eyes flicked to his, her frown changing into a smile to match his own, the Wendigo’s cheeks growing a crimson red as she buried her face into his shoulder to hide her embarrassment.
  136. The two sat together for some time longer, Maurice, under Ittakka's command, occasionally leaning over to the dead caribou to pull a piece of raw meat from it, holding it over his shoulder to let her carefully grab it with her sharp teeth.
  138. “Maurice?” She spoke up suddenly after swallowing another chunk of food. Sitting up slightly to wrap her arms around his shoulders this time, her long blue-white locks of hair falling down the front of his chest as well.
  140. “Yes?”
  142. He turned around to look at her, taking a moment to watch the building storm outside, snow drifts beginning to form and cover the bloody trail Ittakka had left behind. Her eyes were also transfixed towards the outside, the Wendigo curiously sporting a small smile.
  144. “I think we’ll be having to stay in the cave for a little while longer.”
  146. Her tone of voice made Maurice’s brow furrow, the slightly lilting, almost teasing way she said that bringing confusion.
  148. “Th-That’s probably for the best, don’t want to get caught out in there again. Besides, I'm sure you know these forests better than I do.” Maurice replied, placing both his trust in her, and another chunk of meat in the fire for himself.
  150. Ittakka stood up suddenly and walked towards where the rest of the animal pelts lay on the floor, stooping over to pick some of them up. “We’ll be needing these.” She said with a small lilt to her voice, obviously pleased by the sudden turn of events. When she turned back around, furs slung over one of her arms, Maurice’s attention jumped from her eyes to her body, her coat left open to him for the first time.
  152. Having the stature and voice of a relatively young girl, it was no surprise to Maurice that Ittakka’s body was yet to be fully developed, her breasts, tipped with small, rosy nipples, just beginning to bud and sag. Curving hips suggested that she would grow into a finely-endowed woman one day, all of which combining to cause his heart to jump, an unknown heat stirring deep within him.
  154. He studied the rest of her body as the Wendigo walked her way back towards him, her deer-like hooves clacking on the stone floor. Lower legs and parts of her thighs were covered in a fur that changed from a deep gray into a pale silver the further up it traveled, eventually wrapping around beneath her girdle and towards her backside, a small tuft of the silvery fur present just above her mons.
  156. Maurice stood suddenly, a strange and heavy force compelling him to walk to meet her, pelts falling to the floor to expose his now towering manhood, a dull heat coursing inexplicably through his blood.
  158. Ittakka took a few shaky steps back, dropping her own pelts onto the ground as she gazed up at the man, her cheeks flushing with blood at his appearance. “Ma-“ Was all she managed to say before the man had grabbed hold of one of her forearms, dragging her towards the small pile of furs beside the fire and forcefully, but also carefully, pushing her onto her back.
  160. Her coat was left splayed open now that she was on her back, her breath catching a few times as she struggled to contain herself. “M-Maurice…” She stuttered, gasping sharply when one of his hands jumped to a breast, fingers digging into the pale flesh as her heart pounded against his touch.
  162. Maurice had lost nearly all sense of control by this point, his building lust beginning to overflow with the pounding of his heart, which thundered in his ears. His mouth was filled with saliva and his body, especially his loins, burned with an unrelenting desire to take the girl as his own, her furred legs sliding along his and up to his waist to trap his lower body, the Wendigo obviously alright with the sudden turn of events.
  164. Their foreheads touched as Maurice lined his swollen member up with Ittakka’s slick slit, her small tuft of pubes tickling his head. “W-Wait.” She commanded, pushing against his cheek with a hand.
  166. He huffed in frustration at being pushed away, just barely being able to heed her word, allowing Ittakka time to grab hold of either side of her coat, and wrap it around the two of them, pulling the hood down.
  168. They were plunged into darkness, Maurice’s confusion of the coat somehow being able to cover the two of them being pushed to the back of his mind, a more urgent matter taking center stage.
  170. “Okay.” Ittakka said in her calm, airy voice. “Now we won’t get cold while w-“
  172. Maurice pushed his hip forwards in a sudden, sharp thrust, spearing his cock into the girl while letting out a guttural shout, unable to hold himself back any longer. Ittakka’s own voice followed after and mixed with his, her girlish cry echoing in his ear as the man began to ravish her petite body.
  174. Without a word of warning he began to buck his hips in a wild frenzy, hammering into her with an untamed ferocity sparked by the sudden lust that had entered and filled his entire body. Ittakka gasped and moaned, writhing beneath the possessed man as he violated her tight entrance, her small body unable to find the strength, or the will, to fight him off. His hands pinned down hers above her head just beside her antlers, their foreheads pressing together again as they kissed passionately, Maurice repeatedly slamming his length home into her.
  176. The air inside the coat began to heat up dramatically at their vigorous lovemaking, wet sounds of slapping flesh drowned out by the howling and moaning of the two, the building storm outside now but a distant memory.
  178. Again and again Maurice pressed himself into Ittakka, who was more than accepting of his member into her tight pussy, arms wrapping around to hold onto his torso for dear life, each thrust allowing his head to press against the entrance of her womb.
  180. On a particularly hard thrust, the Wendigo attempted to suppress her scream by biting into her assailants shoulder, her sharp teeth digging into his vulnerable flesh and allowing blood to flow, causing Maurice to let out a grunt at the sudden sensation, pausing his thrusts for a moment.
  182. Ittakka’s small body shook beneath his, the girl quivering with clenched eyes as her inner walls gripped down hard onto Maurice’s cock, the sudden pressure bringing him right to the edge.
  184. His cock only partway in, Ittakka locked her short legs around his waist the best she could, forcing Maurice’s hips forwards to crash into hers as she continued to ride her orgasm. In the thrust, his cockhead came to press against her cervix, her walls still pressing down on him unbearably hard.
  186. The mix of Ittakka’s girlish howls, ones so different from the calm voice of before, along with her clutching hands, sweltering hot body temperature, hard bite, and unrelentingly tight pussy sent Maurice into another realm, his orgasm ripping through his body to release the build up of lust caused solely by the girl grasping onto him.
  188. The two howled in pleasure together as his seed spilled forth into her, beginning to fill her small womb, her legs refusing to let him pull back, not that he wanted to. A quick succession of small thrusts on his end, accompanied with a few gasps, brought him somehow deeper into the small girl, his cum already beginning to overflow and leak out of her, the lovers lost in a frenzy of pleasure and desire.
  190. Feeling the last of his orgasm taper out, Maurice sighed as he pulled back, Ittakka’s now weak resistance letting him slide out of her with a wet sound, more of his seed flowing out and onto the coat beneath her.
  192. Bracing his arms on either side of her, the orgasm gave Maurice a sudden glimpse of clarity, the lust that had consumed him before wavering as he gazed upon the small girl beneath him.
  194. Blue eyes glazed over with tears, she attempted to hide herself behind one of her hands while gasping for air, a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Ittakka…” He whispered, distraught by his reckless actions, a hand moving to her cheek to wipe away a few stray tears.
  196. Her own hands jumped to his cheeks, pulling the man down suddenly for an impassioned kiss, one that held the metallic taste of blood. They both pulled back from the embrace to catch their breath, chests heaving with effort at the action, Ittakka smiling shyly up at the man, who could just make out her form in the near pitch-blackness they found themselves in. A second wave of lust began to swell up within Maurice’s body as she tussled with his hair, her smile sweet, yet also suggestive.
  198. The Wendigo reached down with her hands towards Maurice's cock, which was beginning to stiffen once more as the primal lust began to consume him for the second time. Her fingers danced and stroked along his shaft as she giggled, using her legs to bring his hips forward to press him against her entrance.
  200. “Again?” She asked in her sing-song voice, stroking Maurice's cheek.
  202. With that one-worded question, Maurice's inhibitions vanished, replaced with the need to make the girl his again.
  204. And again.
  206. And again.
  208. -------------------------------------
  210. Maurice woke up once more, this time not only to the crackling of a dying fire, but as well as to faint breathing of someone beside him, a small weight on the left side of his body. Her hushed breaths barely audible over the howling winds outside, Ittakka’s sleeping form caused him to smile and brush a few stray locks of hair from her eyes, looping some over a horn to keep it out of the way.
  212. Sitting up on one side, Maurice peered out towards the entrance of the cave, taking one of the Wendigo’s dainty hands in his, holding it carefully.
  214. It called to him, the storm, with its wailing and shrieking.
  216. It sounded like home.
  218. Carefully, Maurice moved to his knees and picked up the sleeping girl, being mindful of her fluffy tail while cradling her in his arms. As he stood, he noticed the coat, somehow now many times larger than before, stood with him, as if held up with an invisible force. That invisible force closed the front the coat as well, plunging them into darkness as he began to walk, the topmost part of the coat left slightly open to let him see.
  220. Walking out of the cave and into the snow, the lovers disappeared together into the storm, the man compelled by a sense of longing to take them further into the mountains.
  222. To home.
RAW Paste Data
We use cookies for various purposes including analytics. By continuing to use Pastebin, you agree to our use of cookies as described in the Cookies Policy. OK, I Understand
Not a member of Pastebin yet?
Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!