Phil and the Were-wolf 3

On the day of their execution a death row inmate is offered a special “Last meal” before they are sent to the gallows. A study on the topic found that burgers, steaks, sodas, and even ice cream were among the most commonly requested items from these dead men walking. I felt a special kinship with those men as I began the day of my execution like so many others, clad in my underwear sitting at a cheap plastic table wondering why I wasn't still asleep.

My last meal was a simple breakfast of syrup and waffles. It was a slow meal, each bite taken with exaggerated care and savored. The syrup had soaked deep into the golden goodness of the waffles, causing each bite to be a blast of sugary sweetness. Gradually more and more waffle disappeared and, with the desperation of a drowning man, I fought to delay the inevitable with smaller bites, slower chewing, and whatever other dastardly tricks I could think of. Sadly, the waffles ran out as life demanded an end to my procrastination.

Unfortunately for life, college students  have long since mastered the art of procrastination.

With breakfast done I grabbed my towel and trudged into the dorm showers,  walking into an  empty stall and  turning the water as  hot as I could tolerate.  My next delaying tactic began as I slowly cleaned every nook and cranny of my body ranging from behind my ears to the bottom of my feet, washing each part until it was nearly rubbed raw. Eventually, the scalding water turned my skin a brilliant crimson and forced me out of the stall. After a quick dry with my  towel I returned to my room, the  reduced summer student body foiling my attempts at conversation and further procrastination.

Which is probably for the best, conversations with a naked man in the hallway tend to be fairly awkward.

Absentmindedly tossing the towel into a random corner of the bedroom, I faced my closet. Inside was a small selection of the finest bargain polo shirts and khaki pants a college student could afford, each awaiting appraisal and selection. Each article of clothing was inspected for stains or tears, if today was my last day then I wanted to leave a damn sexy corpse. I soon settled for a slightly wrinkled red shirt and my cleanest looking pair khakis. Finally, brown leather belt was thrown on to pull the glorious duty of keeping my pants on.

After a quick once over in the mirror to remove any remaining wrinkles and comb the shaggy, brown mop I called hair, I turned to my room and gave it a fine farewell.

Goodbye bed, with your cheap metal springs that always sank too much.

Goodbye shoddy plastic table whose paint is probably lead based.

Goodbye laptop, with your freshly cleared web history.

And finally, goodbye Sexbox 690, you were my truest companion and the best gaming system I could afford.

I closed the door and walked out of the dorm, the sun nearing its peak as I mounted my trusty steed. The small blue sedan had seen me through difficult times and today it would see me through one more.

 The streets were filled with early lunch traffic as I drove along, the hustle and bustle of the city beating the frantic tempo of city life. As I drove towards my executioner’s home I debated about just continuing down the road and never looking back. I could go to the woods, live the carefree life of a hermit and become one with nature. I could live off the land, seek enlightenment, and warn nosy bands of kids about going into the obligatory creepy, abandoned house.

Truly it would be a beautiful life…..until I got kidnapped by a harpy or something.

 My drive reached its end as I pulled before the dreaded house which had haunted me through my career. It menaced in the late morning sun with floral drapes and  a yellow mailbox. Nervously, I opened the gate and strode towards the door, my instincts screaming at me with every step. The dark green door that served as the gate into the hell-hound’s domain soon loomed before me. The noose hung heavily around my neck as my hand hovered before the doorbell, shaking as I prepared myself for the final step.

I pressed the button and the noose tightened.

DING DONG

I expected the door to explode into shrapnel  as the muscular were-wolf to tackled me to the ground, eyes burning with fiery lust as she dragged me into her domain. Instead I was greeted by a raven haired were-wolf in a blue sundress. The garment came down to her knees and proudly outlined the contours of her body, showing her tight hindquarters and ample hips.  Natasha's ample bust strained against the dress, a risqué cut showing a tantalizing valley of cleavage. Her long black hair was bundled into a pony tail that flowed down to her buttocks, a small silver clip shaped like a flower holding her wild bangs in check.

She wore a warm smile shown on her face while her tail wagged happily behind her. “Good morning Phil” she greeted, golden eyes taking me in.

I sputtered out a hasty “Morning Natasha” as I tried to break my wide eyed stare. I had known that Natasha had a gorgeous body but seeing her in that dress had flipped something. For the first time since I had known her my heart beat quickly not out of fear, but out of desire.

A girlish giggle caught my attention as Natasha fought to contain her amusement. “See something you like Phil.” She smiled, her wagging tail intensifying as she leaned  forward to give me a good view of her cleavage. “If I had known you liked this I would have worn it ages ago.”

I gave a snort and averted my gaze, a strange heat appearing on my face. “Whatever, you look good.” Her ears perking up at the compliment “Are you ready to head out?”

She let out another giggle as she stepped to the side and waved me in, “Just a sec, I need to grab some things.”

I hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before stepping into the were-wolfs den. It was the first time I had seen the inside of Natasha’s house and, quite frankly, I was shocked. The floors a clean white carpet while the tables were nearly covered in lace and doilies. An old grandfather clock noisily ticked while pictures of old family dotted the walls and shelves. It almost felt as if I had stepped into my grandmother’s house.

As Natasha disappeared upstairs, I occupied myself by skimming through some of the nearby photos. One featured an elderly man and a silver furred were-wolf with features refined by age as they smiled from the back of a boat. Another showed a tawny, lithe lycanthrope with a heavy belly  reclining in a chair as she was hugged from behind by a tall, bearded man. As I heard the thumping of Natasha coming down the stairs, I picked up one last photo.

In the photo were four were-wolf pups in a basket, none of them older than a year . A gray one looked at the camera man, black eyes gleaming with curiosity, while another brown haired one looked up towards the ceiling, investigating something  hidden from the image. Another of the pups was splayed halfway out of the basket, dead asleep  with her golden fur shining  while the final black furred pup was captured halfway through a sneeze, eyes squinting and mouth half opened.

“There, I had to grab my purse.” Natasha said as she descended the stairs, a simple, red leather purse hanging from her by its strap. She notice my snickers and wandered over, a  confused look on her face.

“What are you looking at?” she asked as I turned the picture towards her. A red sea of embarrassment bloomed on her face before it was hidden behind her paws as she hid herself.

“Of course you had to find that one.” Her muffled voice answered through the furry digits that hid her from view. Her tail hung low and her ears were flat as shame came off her in nearly visible waves. “I hate that picture, I swear that my parents kept it just to embarrass us later.”

“I don’t know why you are so embarrassed,” I chuckled, feeling all tension evaporate as I teased her. “I think it looks cute.” Although she kept her face covered her ears twitched up and her wagging tail betrayed her true feelings. It was almost too easy to read her emotions if you knew where to look. I placed the picture back up on the shelf and went to the open door, holding it open and waving her through.

“If you are really ready we can head out.” I said as she lowered her paws, a small pout and crimson blush on her face. Soundlessly she walked out the door and I closed it behind the two of us, her wagging tail being the only hint about her true feelings. With a quick turn of the key, Natasha locked her door and followed me to my modest chariot.

Out of habit I held the car door open for her, eliciting a small blush and a “thank you.”

And they say chivalry is dead.

The car was old and designed for human sized occupants, meaning the roof was low enough that Natasha’s ears kept brushing against it, flicking each time they made contact. There was no hole cut in the seat for her tail so she settled for wrapping it about her waist.

“Sorry if it’s a tight fit.” I apologized, fastening my seat-belt and starting the car with a quick twist. “Haven’t really expected any extra species passengers.”

Natasha just smiled and waved me off as the car roared (buzzed) to life. “Don’t worry about it, I've ridden in smaller.” She gave a small chuckle and shook her head as we pulled away from her home. “I once test drove one of those little smart cars out of curiosity. Could barely even get in the car let alone drive it.” She curled up in the seat, arms tight to her sides as she mimicked driving.
I gave a small snort as I passed a car, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it would. She hadn’t busted out the crazy yet.
Then again, the day was young.

The were-wolf stretched back out in her seat as much as she could, watching the cars go by. “Sooo, Phil. What are we going to do on our first date?” Natasha asked, squirming with excitement in the cramped confines of the car.

“Look in the back and find out.” I point towards the rear seats with my thumb. I saw Natasha turn and look towards the back where she  would see a blanket, a picnic basket and –

“Really?” she said, an amused look on her face as she held up the bright red Frisbee. “That’s stereotyping you know.”

I responded with a simple smile as I pulled into Asbeneth Sunder-Claw Park.

Created when a wealthy dragon (The aforementioned Asbeneth) donated a wealthy sum  of cash to the city, Asbeneth Sunder-Claw Park  was one of the nicer, and safer, parks in the city. It boasted a large pond for swimming, an abundance of greenery and flowerbeds,  a play area for children (complete with a miniature castle), and large tracts of well trimmed grass. It  contained the obligatory rape forest for girls who preferred more aggressive hookups and  well as the men (idiots) who enjoyed them.

Due to the weather Ryu on Channel 9 having a date today, we were guaranteed sunny skies and warm breezes without any clouds in sight. Knowing this, I elected to grab a spot by an old oak tree (kindly labeled with the “safe” sticker by the park managers) and lay out the blanket and basket. Natasha was too busy eying the park, nose twitching and ears turning as she tried to take in every sent and sound.

“Alright,” I murmured as I finished setting up our base-camp in the park. Let’s get this show on the road. “OK Natasha what should we do fir-*”

Why is she rolling in the grass?

Natasha, the terrifying were-wolf who hunted me for two years, was rolling in the grass with a look of joy on her face. I watched her in stunned silence before took notice.

“What?” She asked in a tone that suggested the answer was obvious “I had an itch.”

“Why not use your hands?” I replied with more confusion. She cocked an eyebrow and raised her paws, flexing them to display the sharp claws.

OK, so maybe the answer was obvious.

“Anyways,” I recovered. ignoring the weirdness before me and pointing to the Frisbee Natasha had dropped in her enthusiasm. “How about we get a workout in before lunch?”

A lewd smirk spread across Natasha's face and her paw pulled he neckline of her dress down , exposing more of her succulent breasts.  “Oh, I know a reeeeeal good  workout we could do.”

I shot her a stern look, trying my hardest to keep my eyes from drifting  to the alluring canyon of flesh she was displaying. Natasha quickly picked up the hint and, with a pout, rose off of the grass.

“Your no fun.”  she grumbled, brushing off the grass from her behind. My response was a simple shake of the head and a toss of the plastic disk.

The throw was terrible and it flew a foot off the ground and a yard away from the were-wolf. No normal human would be able to catch it before it hit the ground. Luckily for Natasha, she wasn't human.

Moving with inhuman speed, Natasha  shifted into a diving lunge, snagging the disk as it began to touch the grass. She landed hard on her side but payed it not heed, using the momentum to continue into a roll before throwing the disk back with frightening speed.
Natasha's display of agility took me in so much that I was barely able to react to the disk, forcing me to catch it with a jerky twitch.

Natasha gave a little giggle as she stood up. “Come on Phil” she teased “you need to pay better attention then that.”
My response was a grunt and another toss (which Natasha easily caught).

So began our battle in the park as we launched the Frisbee  at each other at blisteringly quick speeds and twisting angles. Neither of us was willing to give an inch as we dove, dived, and leapt after the plastic disk, doing whatever it took to make the catch.

Although Natasha very obviously held the physical advantage, I was unwilling to admit defeat and pushed myself as hard as I could. My clean clothes were soon covered in dirt and stained with sweat, my limbs shaking exhaustion. Natasha, by contrast, looked exactly as she had been when we started, although she bore a wide smile that only grew with each catch I made.

I fired another devilishly fast throw towards Natasha, it was over a yard away and waist high. There was no way she could catch this one. Natasha relished this new challenge by dashing towards the flying disk. She closed the distance with terrifying quickness but elected not to catch the toss, but dominate it.

I could only watch with awe as  the athletic girl launched into the air and flipped over the disk, simply plucking it out of the air at her apex before landing.

Well.......shit....

Natasha held up the disk and fanned herself with it slowly. “Ready for another round” she asked with that damn smile still plastered on her face.

“Nah” I gasped, waving back to her. “I think I'm set.”

Natasha simply shrugged and skipped over to the blanket, happily humming as her tail wagged behind her.

Against the screams of my aching limbs  I dragged myself towards the blanket where Natasha had already settled down and digging through the picnic basket. She had pulled out a  turkey sandwich and was looking at me expectantly as I flopped down onto the blanket. I held out a hand for the delicious lunch but was met with Natasha wagging her finger and shaking her head.

“Open your mouth and say -aaaaaaaah-”

I stared blankly at her for a second, was she literally going to try and feed me a sandwich? She ignored the stare, bobbing in her seat as she waited for my response.

I wanted to reply with a “Just hand me a sandwich already.” but the instant I opened my mouth Natasha had already filled it with the sandwich.

The WHOLE sandwich.

She had shoved about a quarter of the sandwich into my mouth and it was a struggle to avoid choking.

Natasha decided to casually ignore my lack of oxygen and instead began eating one of the other sandwiches.

Besides me nearly choking on a sandwich, it was a quiet lunch, neither of us speaking as we focused on eating,  no one willing to break the silence as birds sang and horns honked in the distance.

There was also a scream from the rape forest but you quickly learned to ignore those things.

As we ate, I noticed that Natasha would look at me every so often, averting her gaze when our eyes met.
Well isn’t this interesting...

I decided to try a new tactic and stared at her.

At first she just looked away  but soon she began to blush and fidget.

Staaare

Her squirming intensified and she tried to distract herself by wolfing (HAH) down the sandwich.

Staaaaaaare.

The blush covered her face and she couldn't even distract herself with the sandwich anymore.

STAAAAAAAAAA-*

She cleared her throat and looked at me timidly, tail limp. “Phil I want to apologize for something.”

Well this should be interesting.  I decided to respond by cocking my eyebrow and see what she did.

She stared at me a little more before speaking again. “I wanted to say sorry for chasing you last night.....and beating up your friends......and almost kidnapping you.”

She wasn't crying but I could hear the emotion in her voice, it was taking her quite a bit to make this  apology.

I gave her a simple nod and waited for her continue. “I also want to apologize for all the....action...I have been giving you for the past two years. I should have asked you out rather than just ambushing you all the time.”

I almost choked on my sandwich at this, was she apologizing for raping me for two years? It certainly didn't make up for all the stress I had gone through but it was certainly a step.

Natasha hugged her knees as she continued, eyes lowering “Ever since my grandparents passed my mom has really wanted us all to find strong husbands and have kids. I got the house but its always felt...empty.” Natasha's tone was quiet and she refused to raise her eyes.  “When you escaped me on that first day I though I had finally found the one. ” She wrapped her tail around herself. “I always dreamed of a husband who was stronger than me but.” She motioned towards herself and gave her stomach a pat. We both knew that corded muscle lay beneath the sundress.

I continued to stare and stopping mid chew, waiting patiently for her to continue. She struggled for moment before speaking again “When you finally took charge I was ecstatic! I had finally found someone who could beat me! But when you turned me down I kinda....snapped I guess.”

No shit.

Natasha took in one final breath and faced me with a look of fragile determination. “I know it doesn't change what happened but I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened and hope you will give me a second chance.”

I swallowed my food and though, Natasha was right when she said the apology wouldn't change any thing and she did still put me a little on edge sheer power difference between us. She seemed honest though, as though she was truly sorry about what she had done. Would it really be that bad to give her another shot?

She watched me as  face stiff as she waited for my judgment, her ears low as she waited the verdict.

“Well, your right when you say the apology won't change what you've done. You harassed me for two years and came after me when I turned you down. You're asking quite a lot from me” My words pierced her as I spoke and her head lowered in dejection.

“But” I said, raising a finger as she jolted back up in confusion. “That doesn't seem like  a fake apology and other than the kidnapping incident you never tried to hurt me or lock me up.”

Hope flickered through her and her tail began to wag. “I'm not going to forget anything but I am going to give you a second shot as long as we take things at MY pace. No raping, no surprise blow-jobs, or any funny stuff. OK?”

She was silent, claw resting on her bottom lip as she considered my terms. Gently she put forth a question “Can I still cuddle?”

I gave her stone faced glare “Sure I do-”

Whatever else I was going to say was interrupted by a squeal of joy and an impact as she tackled me, hugging me tight and nuzzling me. The sheer size difference between us made me feel a bit like a body pillow but the warmth of her body and the pure feelings of joy  radiating from her made it well worth it.

I couldn't help but smile and give her a scratch behind the ears as she nipped, rubbed, and hugged me. I don't know if this was the right decision, it certainly wasn't the smartest, but with hugs like this, I wouldn't regret a thing.