Business and pleasure, Chapter 5

The forest smelled of wet pine and leaf mold. Rainwater dripped from the dark, bristly leaves that surrounded me, collected upon my horns and dripped a second time onto my shoulders as the branch I was perched on rocked in the wind. Even though I had wrapped my tail around the wooden limb to hold myself in place, I still had to shift my position to stay balanced. The motion sent a flurry of little sparks of pain through my body; knocks and scrapes delivered by the creature I was hunting, joined by the growing cramp in my calves.

Slowly, doing my best not to give away my position by disturbing the wildlife that crawled and chattered around me, I drew my bow and nocked an arrow. Krisoff and I had spent the night before scavenging up every poisonous plant and creature we could find, and had ground them all up into something which should, in theory, drop the beast with one good hit. I chewed my lip anxiously, straining my ears for any hint of sound above the ever-present background noise of rain and animal life. The beat of running footsteps, the crash of splintering wood. Anything other than what I was slowly growing more and more worried I was going to hear; a scream.

Gods. It was only supposed to be a bear or something, or a pack of rabid wolves. Something had been killing wildlife off at the edges of one of the Orc clans that hadn't yet moved to the cities, and they didn't have enough fit warriors to chase it down. The sort of job that Kristoff and I had handled before; a bit of light work to prove to our employer that we were capable and reliable of handling more involved tasks.

We hadn't expected the thing to be a fucking werewolf!

We'd been fighting a running battle with the creature for the past four days. Four days of playing hide-and-seek through a wet, miserable tract of forest with a hulking mass of fur, fang, and aggression that could tear either one of us apart with barely any effort, kept alive almost purely by Kristoff's uncanny skills as a woodsman. We'd set traps, lured it into ambushes, left fake scent-markers to draw it off our trail...everything we (or, to be honest, just Kristoff) could think of. And to be fair, we'd given it a couple of nasty wounds, but the thing had always turned tail and ran whenever we had the better of it, and came back once its freakish ability to regenerate had undone our hard work.

I won't lie. I was sore, tired, hungry, and worst of all, completely terrified. I'd almost died three times over the course of those four days, and we'd exhausted almost all of our supplies. After we'd drawn up tonight's plan, Kristoff had, in a quiet, tired voice, admitted that this was probably our last stand. If it didn't work, our best bet was just to scatter and run, and hope that it only chased down one of us. I'd felt an uncomfortable tendril of guilt at that. Kristoff was laden down by his heavy armor and the large, broad axe he fought with, and while he knew the terrain better than me, he just wasn't as naturally fast and nimble. But that was like him - playing the Hero, in a way that deserved the capital letter. I'd gotten into the business of adventuring because I wanted to be rich and famous; he genuinely wanted to protect people. He was, he always was, a better person than me in that respect.

And then - there! In the distance, but growing steadily louder with each moment. The sound of something large smashing its way through the undergrowth at speed, demolishing trees and setting up flapping, squawking clouds of birds in its wake. I turned this way and that, water lashing from the contours of my horns, until I pinpointed the direction it was coming from. A moment later. Kristoff burst from the undergrowth, his dark, shaggy hair plastered against his pale skin by the rain. He didn't look injured - I couldn't see any flashes of red on him, and he wasn't limping - and I felt my spirits lift a bit at that.

"Ree!" He yelled, scanning the treeline for me. "Ree, it's coming!"

I caught his eye and gave him a quick nod, followed by a twitch of my head to indicate he should keep moving. As if I needed another hint that the werewolf was hot on the man's heels, there was an awful sound as wood splintered and tore, followed by a long, echoing howl from the wet, green gloom Kristoff had just emerged from.

Kristoff sprinted over to my tree, ducking behind it, the blade of his axe gleaming in the dark. I tore my eyes away, drew back the string, and held my breath.

I didn't have to wait long. The werewolf ploughed out of the trees with a triumphant howl, its canine snout sweeping back and forth as it scented out its prey. It knuckled forward like an ape, its over-muscled, humanoid body stooped and supported on a pair of arms that looked too long for its body, shedding water and stray leaves from its thick, black fur as it went.

The bowstring quivered between my fingers. For a moment, I hung there, frozen by the sight of it, before I snapped back to my senses and released. The arrow sang, whipping through the air, and sank into the werewolf's chest with a solid, meaty thwack.

It didn't even notice. The werewolf took another two lumbering steps forwards, sniffing at the air, completely ignoring the shaft of the arrow now jutting from its chest. I shot a desperate look down, and was met by an equally panicked one from Kristoff in return.

"Did it work?" I hissed. "Is it working?"

"I don't know!" He breathed back, his eyes flicking back and forth between me, the werewolf, and the arrow embedded in it. "I don't usually do poisons!"

The issue was made moot a second later as the werewolf's lupine head snapped around to glare at us. It growled, took a step backwards, then let out a deafening bellow and charged. Kristoff cursed and bolted left, while I desperately tried to sling my bow and leap clear. I whipped my tail free and jumped as best I could, grinding my teeth as my cramped legs let out a twinge in protest, curling up in mid-air and rolling as I hit the soft earth. Scrambling to my feet, I pulled out my knives - for all the good they would do - and leaped to one side as the werewolf snatched at the space I'd been in a moment ago, its great, clawed hand coming a hair away from catching hold of my tail. I span and lashed out in return, slashing a shallow groove across its forearm with one blade and stabbing the other through its open palm as it reached for me. That, at last, got a reaction; the werewolf howled in pain and drew back, thick, dark blood spilling forth from its wounded palm.

Acting on a mixture of instinct and raw fear, I pushed forwards, trying to press my momentary advantage, slashing madly at its chest and arms. For a moment, the werewolf actually seemed to be losing ground; it took first one, then another step backwards, putting its hairy arms up to protect its snarling wolf's-head from my blows. But it was healing as fast as I was hurting it; the wounds I'd inflicted upon it earlier were already starting to close up, without leaving so much as a scar behind. And then, as if tiring of me, it lashed out, smacking the blades out of my hands with a single lazy backhand swipe and flicking me off my feet with a second. Pain exploded across my ribs, and if it wasn't for the reinforced leather strips I'd had sewn into my armor before we left Swyndel, they'd probably have shattered under the impact. As it was, I flew several feet backwards, landed in an ungainly heap, and finally rolled down a small embankment to come to a halt in the small stream we'd made our camp next to. A moment later, the clank of metal told me that Kristoff had dropped in besides me.

"Shit, it looked like he got you good that time." He said, pulling me out of the fetal ball I'd curled into and carefully checking me over. "Nothing broken?"

As well as my ribs, of my horns ached like a bitch, but it wasn't broken and didn't feel loose when I tugged at it, so I shook my head.

"Kris," I muttered. "Kris, what the fuck are we gonna do?"

He poked his head up above the embankment, his expression grim.

"I mean, you grew up in these parts, right?" I continued, trying not to let too much of an anxious whine creep into my voice. "You, I mean, your people must have had to deal with this sort of thing before, right?"

Kristoff sighed and sagged back down next to me. "The thing's gone completely feral." He shook his head. "It happens around this time of year. Breeding season. They'll rip up everything they can catch until they find a mate. Can't communicate with them, can't fight them, not unless you've got a lot of guys an an armory's worth of silver..."

I blinked. "Breeding season?"

The man nodded. "Yea. Usually they'll just fight for dominance and settle down once they've mated, but most of the werewolves in these parts were killed off long ago. It's got nothing to work its urges out on." He looked down at his axe and grimaced. "When I was growing up, one of them started stalking our caravan. We managed to find a female timberwolf in heat and staked her out for it, which settled the thing long enough for us to get away. Not that it matters. I mean, where are we gonna - "

Kristoff's eyes went wide. I had already dumped my bow and quiver and had started fighting with my belt, trying to get my trousers off.

"Ree- Reela, no, you can't be serious!"

"Well, what the hell else are we gonna go, Kris?" I snapped back. Panic and desperation made my voice shrill and reedy. "We can't fight it, we can't slow it down, we can't even run away!" I tugged my trousers off and tossed them away, trying to ignore the cold mud now creeping around my thighs and nether regions. "The thing has our fucking *scent*, Kris! One of us has gotta do something!"

He sputtered at me, swore, and eventually forced out "I - I mean, just...oh, fuck, just wait there! I'll try and..."

The man never finished his sentence. Kristoff hefted his axe and leaped over the embankment, charging off to do...I didn't know. Distract it? Die in some grand, noble fashion? I sagged back against the earth, spread my legs, and tried not to think too much about what I was planning on doing. To be honest, 'planning' wasn't even the right word. I had some vague idea that maybe if it could smell that I was ready for sex, and then I bent over, it'd just do what it needed to do and wander off. It was an animal, right? Animals don't really go in for foreplay or extended, pleasurable sex, right? They just fuck and be done with it. Of course, it might just decide to eat me, but at least that'd spare me the agony of being run to ground like a frightened, fleeing rabbit first.

Of course, that thought led on to the first problem. Sitting in a cold, muddy river, in the rain, with the threat of impending devourment hanging over one's head is not conductive to getting oneself ready for sex. I was as dry as a bone, despite shoving my hand between my legs and fumbling desperately at myself. Behind me, I could hear the sound of Kristoff's axe hissing through the air and the werewolf snarling and roaring as the pair of them fought.

"Okay. Shit." I muttered to myself. I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to shift my battered body into a more comfortable position and block out the sounds of combat behind me. "Think sexy thoughts. Think sexy thoughts."

I slipped a pair of fingers into my mouth, wetting them with saliva and trying to let my mind wander. I tried to think of one of my clients, a regular; a nice young man who came in every couple of weeks, always requesting me, always polite and respectful. He was a favorite because he always took the time to go down on me before we did anything else, and he'd learned all the right spots to get me off. I moved my wet fingers down to my slit, tracing them long, slow strokes up and down the outer lips, imagining the way his warm breath would play across my sensitive skin as he worked my body to his liking. He'd part me, gently, to see if I was ready for him, then glide up to my clit, teasing the little bud with the tip of his tongue as the first drops of wetness started to gather between my folds...

And true enough, I could feel my juices starting to flow at the memory. I dipped my fingers into my slit, rocking my hips gently as I masturbated. My mind wandered further, and I caught myself thinking about the werewolf - imagining its powerful, hairy body crushing against me, wondering what its cock would look, what it would feel, like. I mean, I knew some women had sex with dogs. You got them occasionally at the Circle; they'd sell themselves to men who wanted to watch a girl being fucked by an animal, and while the idea didn't appeal to me, they must have gotten something out of it. How different could the werewolf be? It'd just be bigger. Assuming it didn't kill me, at least.

As if on cue, there was a dull crumping sound. I yanked my fingers, now slippery with my own juices, out of my pussy and stuck my head up above the embankment. Kristoff was lying against a tree, eyes closed and not moving but - to my relief - still breathing, though his breastplate had a large dent in the front. The werewolf stood several feet away, pawing at the ground and snarling. Well, I thought. Now or never.

I hopped up out of the river and began to walk towards the creature, my wet, sticky fingers stretched out in front of me like a religious offering. The werewolf sniffed at the air and turned its head, glaring at me as I approached. But it didn't attack, which I took as a good sign. Its eyes never left me as I came closer, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that my hips and tail started to sway in time with my steps, like he was just one more big, dumb client to be seduced out of his money. Up close I could see powerful muscles rippling under its thick fur, and its eyes, which were disturbingly human, watched me with...I wasn't sure. Curiosity, maybe.

With my heart hammering inside my chest, screwed my eyes shut and reached my wet fingers out towards the werewolf's muzzle, expecting to feel the sudden agony as its teeth closed around my wrist at any moment. Hot, wet breath on my hand as it stooped forwards, sniffling and nuzzling at them like a dog being offered a treat by a stranger.

"That's it." I muttered, slowly opening my eyes again as a tongue as wide as my whole hand flopped out of its mouth and began lapping at me. "That's it. Good boy. Gooood boy. See how nice I taste? Do you want some more?" My arm was starting to ache from being held out so long, so I slid my other hand through my wetness and pushed that one forward, which was quickly wiped clean by the exploring tongue. The werewolf took another step forwards, resting its great front limbs on the ground behind me. I don't know if it was deliberate or not, but the thing had me well and truly trapped. Its tongue lapped up my neck and face, leaving behind a thick trail of saliva.

Well, so far so good, I thought. Now what? I reached for him, placing my hands on the werewolf's chest and dragging my fingers down through his thick fur, my fingers finding the lines of his muscles and tracing them down across the unfamiliar shapes. I froze as the thing let out a low growl, but it made no move to attack, so I continued, working my way down, down, towards the creature's groin. My eyes still hadn't left those of the werewolf for fear of missing some signal that might suggest its behavior was about to change, so I gave a nervous squeak of surprise when my fingers alighted upon something very hot, and very hard.

"Alright. Alright, you're definitely interested." My voice still shook with nerves as I reached out again and wrapped my hand around the werewolf's cock. It was incredibly smooth and far hotter than I was used to, and when I finally tore my eyes away to look at it, I could see that it was definitely an animal's dick. It was bright red and pattered with dark, purple veins, wider at the end than at the base, but lacked the clearly defined head that one would normally expect to find upon a normal man's length - just a small, pointed tip atop the blunt wedge of wolfmeat. At the very base, it swelled out again in a knot the size of a large man's fist.

I tried to remind myself that, no matter what the werewolf was now, it had been a person once. Maybe it had the same urges? I took a deep breath and sank down to my knees on the cold, muddy ground, the werewolf's cock hanging in front of my face. This close, it didn't even smell human - the thick, animalistic musk of sweat and damp fur filled my nostrils. I licked my lips and shuffled closer, the thick, canine length now a few inches away from my mouth. I'm just doing this for survival, I told myself. I'm doing it because I don't want it to kill me. I don't have to enjoy it, I just need to do it and go home. A little bead of precome formed at the end of the werewolf's cock and hung there invitingly, glinting in the moonlight. Tentatively, I slid my tongue out and lapped it up, drawing a low rumble from the beast's throat as the forks of my tongue tickled his tip. It was much thinner and saltier than what I was used to, but not nearly as bad as I might have expected.

Just for survival, I thought.

Cautiously, shooting glances up at the creature's face - or at least, as much of it as I could see from where I was - to try and gauge its reaction, I took it into my mouth. The werewolf's length was incredibly hot in my mouth, and my wet lips slid over it with ease - far more easily, in fact, than if it had been a normal cock. My tongue washed over the silken surface, and I let out an involuntary little groan of satisfaction as a small pulse of hot, animal pre dribbled into my mouth. The werewolf could have killed me in a heartbeat, but at that moment, I had it completely at my mercy - one wrong move from it and my jaws would have snapped shut, and I wondered if it knew that, because the creature stood very still while I sucked. For a few wonderful moments, I had an enormous, powerful creature completely at my mercy, and a little voice in the back of my head wondered what it'd be like to have such a beast entirely under my control - to shackle its power and use it for my own carnal satisfaction.

But I didn't have to enjoy this, I reminded myself. I was doing it because I didn't have an option. The fact that I was getting wetter was just a natural reaction to that sort of power fantasy.

I redoubled my efforts, bobbing my head up and down the thick, hot shaft, sucking it as deeply as I could. Occasionally I would pull the whole length out of my mouth when I needed to catch my breath, licking and kissing the base of his shaft and working the top with my hand, now wet with its saliva and precome. The musky, animal scent grew all the stronger the closer I got to its knot, but while I was rewarded - not enjoying it, I thought - with a constant stream of thin squirts of precome, I couldn't find a way to get it off.

Abruptly, I felt a great, powerful hand wrapping around my head and one of my horns. I let out a shrill cry of fear as the werewolf pulled me off its shaft and dragged me back to my feet, my knees and lower legs still dripping with the wet earth and leaf mold I'd been kneeling in. My whole body went tense with fear as it brought the claws from its other hand around and brushed them against my neck, but the killing blow never came. Instead, they traveled downwards, hooking under the clasps of my armor and ripping through them like they were made of paper. The remains of my armor, and the padded jerkin beneath, tumbled down into the mud, leaving my slender, crimson body naked and vulnerable before the hulking predator in front of me. The werewolf's hot, throbbing cock brushed against my leg and I thought, dizzily - that's going to go inside me. Discounting the knot, it wasn't the biggest I'd had - the Dragonborn still held that title - but the werewolf was an animal. It didn't understand words like "go slowly, please" or "stop, you're hurting me." And if it did, it probably wouldn't care.

I swallowed anxiously, looked to the werewolf, and with a sigh of resignation, said "That thing's going to split me in half, isn't it?"

As if in answer, the werewolf snarled and knocked me down into the mud with one massive paw. I tried to pick myself up, only to feel thick fingers wrapping around the back of my head and pushing me back down, grinding my face into the earth. Simultaneously, it grabbed my tail and my hips upwards, my sudden cry of pain muffled by the wet soil. At that point, I let myself go limp, allowing the beast to pull me into position, with my face down in the dirt and my ass waving in the air. I jumped as the hot, heavy weight of the werewolf's cock slapped down against my lower back and was slowly dragged down into position, the blunt head and pointed tip prodding against my lower lips.

"This is gonna hurt." I groaned through gritted teeth, as if saying the words would somehow help me prepare for it. "Oh, yea, this is gonna really huu-"

It did. The werewolf drove itself into me with one shove, forcing every inch of thick, boiling wolfmeat into my body with one motion, turning the last word into a long, drawn-out cry of pain. The only mercy was the knot, which, thankfully, just banged against my entrance, the swell of it grinding against my clit and providing some much-needed relief from the sudden invasion. It paused for a moment, just long enough for me to catch my breath, then - then - it began to fuck me.

And it really was a fucking. The slight shudder of relief I felt as it drew back was eclipsed as it thrust forwards again, and again, and again, frantically driving its hot, animal cock deep into my body over and over, pummeling me into the mud with every mad thrust. The werewolf leaned over me and wrapped one of its thick, powerful arms around my midsection, clutching me to its chest, trapping me between the warm friction of its fur on my back and the cool, slick mud it was pushing my chest into. And all the while, its cock fucked in and out of my aching pussy, using me to sate its own primal, animal needs, paying not the slightest heed to my own pleasure - I was as much an animal as it was, wailing and screaming into the wet earth as the pain started to dim and become pleasure, the feeling of invasion lessening and leaving me with the sensation of the hot, thick piece of animal flesh in my body, my sensitive entrance being stretched and stimulated as its knot battered relentlessly at my clit. The werewolf's thin, watery precome mixed with my own fluids to spill down upon the rain-slick earth as it forced me into a wild, violent orgasm. It struck me like a thunderbolt; a hard, shocking spasm that ripped through my body, causing me to buck and squirt in the werewolf's powerful grip. I howled like an animal as I crested the wave, swept away on a brief tide of primal, feral euphoria. I was owned, dominate. I was its bitch - physically and mentally unable - and at that moment, unwilling - to pull myself free as it fucked me harder into the earth and howled along with me.

Then, there was nothing. The werewolf had paused, leaving me shaking, panting and breathless beneath it. My whole body tingled, the aches inflicted upon it over the past four days temporarily forgotten by the heady mixture of pain and pleasure throbbing through my battered form. My pussy, in particular, ached; I felt tight and over-stimulated, the werewolf's cock still lodged deep inside me, its blunt tip rubbing against my passage and drawing the shuddering aftershocks of my orgasm out in a long, endless peal of sensation. The werewolf's head hung over my shoulder, pressed against the side of my face, as if it was embracing me. I groaned and stirred, only to be met with a slobbery lick up my cheek.

"Is that it?" I murmured. "Are we done? Are we - oh." My eyes widened at the realization of what it was trying to do. "Oh, no. No, no, no."

I could feel a steady, heavy pressure against my pussy, like something was trying to force its way inside. The knot. It was trying to knot with me.

I began squirming as best I could in the beast's grip, twisting my hips this way and that, trying to either wriggle free or at least make it too difficult for the werewolf to get the rest of its hulking cock into me. Each motion drew a painful twinge from my sopping, over-stimulated slit, but the werewolf was unrelenting; it held me tighter against its muscular form and kept pushing. Slowly, I could feel myself being split wider to accommodate massive bulb of flesh.

"Oh, come on!" I cried out in disbelief. "It's not gonna fiii-iiit!"

Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a lie. It was going to fit, whether I liked it or not. I squirmed weakly, still trying to resist even as I was forced open, the thick knot creeping deeper and deeper into me with each passing moment. Too tired to even cry out, I whined and mewled, my battered cunt twitching and aching in protest even as the slow, hulking penetration wrung a second, painful orgasm from my tired body. My fingers twitched and curled, grabbing at the roots and vines creeping across the ground and clutching desperately as the wad of hot, pulsing flesh was forced agonizingly deeper. For those few last moments, the whole world ceased to exist - there was just me, the heaving, growling beast atop of me, and the horrid waves of pleasure that swept through my aching body as I was knotted.

And then, with a wet sucking noise audible over the pitter-patter of rain, the thing finally slipped inside my body, setting off another tide of convulsions as my lower lips closed around the throbbing knot. It sat in me like a mark of ownership, a searingly hot, heavy weight that had lodged itself against my g-spot, stimulating me further with every little twitch or shudder - which, in turn, only made me squirm more in order to try and escape the aching pain-pleasure that sang through my wet, muddy body. I felt dirty and humiliated - thrown down and fucked senseless in the dirt, mated like an animal, BY an animal - but some part of me couldn't help but feel perversely satisfied. Unarmed and unarmored, I'd subdued a rabid, feral werewolf - something that half a dozen armed men couldn't have done. Even if my methods had been somewhat unorthodox, it was still a triumph. If you could call being so completely sexually dominated a triumph, at least.

Now, I don't know a lot about animals, but I'd picked a few things up over the course of my years. I knew that once a wolf or a dog knotted with its mate, it wouldn't come uncoupled in a hurry. The female has to wait until he's shot his load and shrunk enough to slip out. I sighed in frustration and sagged forwards, trapped between the dirt and the werewolf, tied in place as its hot, liquid seed began, at last, to pump into my exhausted, aching body.

Time passed. I don't know how long - probably less than half an hour, but it felt much longer. The rain stopped, even though the werewolf's furry body had kept the worst of it off me. I think I dozed for a while, because the next thing I remember, was hearing Kristoff groan and feeling a sudden surge of dread at the idea of him seeing me like this. I prayed to any and every God that might be listening that he was just stirring in his fugue and would soon slip back into unconsciousness, but the clank of metal and the sound of approaching footsteps soon sunk even that vain hope.

I cringed at the heavy sigh that drifted down from above.

"Ireela."

"Shut up, Kristoff."

"Ireela, you're having sex with the werewolf." He didn't sound angry. If anything, he sounded amused. I twisted around, grimacing as the motion drew another spasm of discomfort from my pussy, and glared up at him.

"Correction." I said. "I've *had* sex with the werewolf. I would also very much like to *stop* having sex with the werewolf, but I can't get the fucking thing's fucking dick out of me!"

Kristoff raised an eyebrow and trotted round behind me, leaving me blushing with embarrassment. This was, absolutely, not how I wanted my partner to see me. I heard him kneel down and felt him poking around my abused slit, drawing a low gasp as another twinge shot through my body.

"Oh, man. Yea, he's really tied in there." He laughed, wandering back round to the front. "Well, on the plus side, he's not gonna be much of a threat any more. So, good for you."

"Yea, good for me, for saving both of our lives." I muttered. "Make yourself useful, will you? Go and get me one of my books."

Kristoff trotted off to our tents. Having been brought up with barely any education worthy of the word, I'd been spending most of the money I made at the Second Circle on every book I could get my hands on, and had brought a few out with me to study on the road. Of course, the situation being what it had been, I hadn't had a chance yet. A few minutes later, Kristoff reappeared, and a book was handed down to me.

It was a volume on Animal husbandry.

"You're a real joker, Kris." I muttered. The werewolf, now as docile as anything, gave me another affectionate lick.

---

It was three hours before the thing finally pulled out. The sun was coming up when I felt it shift and tug sharply, the knot popping free and the rest of the now rather less intimidating length of meat slithered out, a generous dose of thin semen pouring out of me after it. Kristoff, ever the gentleman, packed up our camp while I gathered up my fallen weapons and washed and dressed myself as best I could for the trip back to the city.

After a quick trip to my room at the Second Circle for a change of clothes and a more thorough wash, and a stop in at the physician to see if I had any serious injuries (none, thankfully, unless you count pride), Kristoff and I met up with Brakkith, the fat old Orc who had given us the job in the first place.

"Werewolf, huh?" He rumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he poked at the shredded remains of my armor. "Clawmarks look about right, that's for sure. You didn't kill the thing, though? How'd you chase deal with it?"

Kristoff gave me a sideways look. I coughed in embarrassment.

"We found it a suitable bitch."