FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

We call it the flash. No one knows what else to call it, and only a few people actually know what caused it. Nuclear reactors around the world all began to leak out and mutate the local wildlife. These carriers were called ghouls, and it was they who tainted the rest of us. Our technologies didn't even faze them as we tried to protect ourselves. Those of us who hadn't gone insane or been eaten holed ourselves up in cities and villages and waited until the ghouls or the militia came to destroy their small havens. There were shields at first, but between ration wars and ghoul hostilities, they soon gave out; and the strain put on the generators and power grids caused the rest of the world to go dark. Some of those villages, like the one I've grown up in, didn't have shields to begin with and turned to worshiping the ghouls and offering them sacrifices to keep their towns safe.

My village worships the wolf that hides at the edge of our woods. Every year, we offer one of our young males on the verge of adulthood; and in return, it protects us from the others. Women are too valuable to offer up, because we need some way to keep our population up. No one knows what the wolf looks like or if it even exists, but in a small town like mine, all you have to cling to is hope. I live alone with my dad and two brothers. I'm the oldest, and so I help provide for the family; picking up extra jobs for extra rations and, if that failed, I would hunt on the edge of the woods.

I am actually going on one such excursion right now. For the past month or so, jobs have been scarce, and my brothers and I have to eat. I slid out of my bed, stepping softly on the balls of my feet to avoid waking up everyone in the house.

Despite my best efforts, my youngest brother still stirs in his bed and looks up at me with big, sleepy eyes and a smile to match. "Happy birthday Red," he mumbles, reaching for something on the floor next to his bed. His tiny fist closes around something, and he gently places it in my outstretched hand. "Kevin and I made these for you. Have fun hunting; bring back something good."

"Thanks Todd," I finally say, but he is already asleep again. I look at the small gift and smile. It's a little necklace with two small plates of wood. On one plate is my name, engraved with Kevin's messy writing. On the other one was the number 18. I pull it on carefully and fasten it so that it won't be able to fall off.

I rip off a chunk of stale bread and grab a water bottle before I reach my bow and quiver (the gun makes too much noise and has a nasty habit of spoiling the meat) and leave quietly.

I step out into the crisp predawn air and take just a moment to appreciate the view from my house. We live on a hill on the edge of town, and that gives me an unobstructed view of the forest. The sun is painting the horizon with streaks of pink and gold, slowly erasing the black depths of the night before. The trees, weighed down with dew, catch the light and shimmer, briefly turning into pillars of luminescent diamond. The animals stirring in their nests and burrows weave their songs into the wind, making a natural chorus that follows no tempo or specific rhythm, allowing it to flow in ways that man can never hope to imitate.

I walk through the streets and try not to attract too much attention; that's pretty hard considering I stand over six feet tall, when the rest of the population barely reaches five and a half. The hair's a dead giveaway, too, due to its deep tomato red color; any consolation to be had lies with the fact that it matches my eyes shade for shade. I smile and wave at the baker who sees me walking down the street.

The people in the town are all friendly and honest people who just want to keep their heads down and do what needs to be done. A lot of physical labor is required to keep things up and running, and that is where I help out the most. Our town is run by a council, people who came here right before the flash and declared they knew how to best "guide" us to keep everyone from ending up as a midday snack for ghouls or slaves for the militia. They are a disgusting bunch of pigs who reside in the old town hall. I hate them, and they know it; part of why it is hard for me to find jobs.

I've caught them a few times breaking their own laws when they thought no one was around, and I have proof. They've tried to bribe and intimidate me to keep quiet. It was quite entertaining to see someone who barely comes up to my chest puff out his chest like a rooster and pretend he was tough shit. They've settled for calling me out on my lack of education at every opportunity they can get. They want to discredit me and make my future accusations against them less incriminating. I let them have their little victories, but sometime soon they will be proved artifice.

I walk up to the wall and shake loose a wooden plank in the side of the barricade. The council would have a fit if they saw what I was doing. Individual hunting is strictly prohibited, not that most people in the village care. Officially, it's because we don't have the people to spare if someone dies or gets hurt on their own. While that does have a certain note of truth, we can't very well let every reckless adolescent go on his merry way into the wolf's territory, I believe the true reason is because it undermines their authority and the strict control on rations that gives the council its power.

Making sure I'm out of sight, I slip between the boards and replace the loose plank before I head out to the cover of the trees. In the presence of the trees, I am a spirit drifting from shadow to shadow without disturbing the peace or the majesty of the forest. This early in the day, most creatures are still just waking up. I find a perch in a nearby tree and settle in for a long haul. There is no rush or sense of urgency that compels me to blaze from tree to tree like a frightened hare. I don't have to wait long, before I see a small buck walk right beneath my perch. I notch an arrow and take aim carefully. I take a deep breath to steady my aim, but when I loose the arrow my hand twitches ever so slightly. The shot goes wide, and the arrow buries itself in the left hind flank of the cervine. It bellows and crashes through the brush in a blind, pained panic. Cursing, I drop to the ground with a solid thud. All thoughts of stealth abandoned now. I follow the path of destruction and trail of blood at a steady pace and soon arrive upon the limping creature. It falls down and can't get its feet back under it.

I crouch down next to him and begin to croon gently, stroking its neck and taking care not to startle it further. Though its legs may be crippled, its head adorned with antlers is not. Very slowly his labored breathing slows down to pained grunts and gasps. I slowly pull the knife from my boot and, making sure it stayed out of the buck's line of sight, plunge it through the soft tissue of his throat and into the base of his skull. He dies almost immediately, and I get to work. I skin and gut him, being careful not to get too much blood on myself. I place the organs into a small sack at my hip to dispose of later and start carving up all the meat I can carry back. The process takes a little longer than an hour, but once I am satisfied that I have gotten the majority of the meat, I head toward a small stream nearby.

I go up to a rack I set up long ago and set the fur up to dry. While it dries, I sit down and clean it at best I can for now. When finished, I reach into the sack at my hip and place the heart on a flat stone a few yards away from my working area. I know it's not the smartest thing to do, but the world has its superstitions and I have mine. It's a sign of respect to the predators of the forest, saying I'm not here to take everything from them but just enough to survive.

I go through the woods again and set up snares and other traps for small game, using the other organs in hopes of catching a fox. I go back to the stream, strip off my clothes, and dive into the cool, calming waters. I glide through the water like a hawk through air and allow the little amounts of blood to wash away in the current. I swim in the stream for about an hour before I step out of the water. I slip my clothes back on and check the traps to see if luck had chosen to favor me today, it hasn't.

Collecting the fur and shouldering the pack where I put the buck's meat, I start to make my way out of the forest. Each limb that brushes against my arm or shoulder is like a sad goodbye from an old friend. I loathe leaving the trees, but my family's lives are more important than my happiness. I find the loose plank in the fence and return back to the constricting confinement of civilization.

I barely get through the gap when a rough hand grabs me and slams me against the wall, taking my bow, arrows, and pack of meat. When I turn around, I am greeted by the sneering faces of the council and the solemn expression of the baker. They probably caught him after our brief exchange. I wonder what they threatened him with to make him give up my little operation.

"Well what do we have here?" A stout man from the council asks. He is the general spokesperson and I'm sure he has a name, but no one bothers to remember them individually. I'm sure most people would find him intimidating, but whether it's the fact that I stand a foot taller than him or something else entirely, I do not share that particular sentiment.

Any sarcastic remark I can come up with is silenced as my pack is ripped open and all its contents fall to the ground. I watch in horror and tacit rage as the results of my labor are dumped like a mound of garbage. All that meat would have fed my brothers for a week. The fur is stamped into the dirt and ruined as each member of the council takes a moment to desecrate the buck's skin. I can't decide what about this infuriates me so much. Maybe it's the fact that while these pompous airbags grow fat in their domicile, the majority of the people are skin and bones bordering on starvation, and they just wasted a good supply of meat; or perhaps, it's just my own sense of pride that refuses to believe that all of my efforts were, quite literally, stamped out so easily. No, what pisses me off is the fact that they have just effectively wasted the young buck's life.

Whatever the reasoning, my hand itches to draw the blade from my boot and use it to cleave into the fat necks of each council member. I resist the urge to do so, because I am perfectly aware that a sight as gruesome, though beautiful in its own twisted right, as that would scar my brothers for life.

"Excessive hunting like this is a hanging offense," the stout man says in an oily voice that sounds like there is a permanent deposit of phlegm in his throat. "It would be a shame to see someone as young as you go to the gallows," he continues.

A small crowd is beginning to form, and it makes me sick to see the faces of my brothers and father among them. My father looks ready to wretch at the mention of hanging, and my brothers don't look much better. I would give anything for them to leave right now. This situation would be so much easier to deal with if they weren't here.

"What are we going to do with you?" he asks, charismatically turning to the others in the council and even some people in the audience. "Should he hang?" his voice rings out. The council immediately shake their heads no, just before the crowd does. No one will abide by that decision and they know it, but it's all part of a bigger show they have planned.

"Should he be tied to a post and whipped?!" he bellows, sewing a dark, impulsive energy into the air. Once again, the council says no. The people agree, but for less wholesome reasons than before. I would have been made an example of, but those who had seen me work know I possess a high pain threshold and the punishment would be little more than an inconvenience for me.

The councilman, practically bursting with his evil charisma, yells at the top of his lungs as he gets ready to deliver the punch line to this devil's joke. "You have spat upon our traditions and put everyone here in jeopardy, just to satisfy your greed. You have undermined the authority of the council and, by extension, everyone in the village!" His words begin to stir something primal in the people; they begin muttering, and what were looks of sympathy before become accusing glares and grumbled curses. Now, there is a certain amount of bloodlust in the air that only comes about once a year. These fickle people know exactly what they are doing and it scares me to remember how easily they turn on their own.

I swallow around the small lump forming in my throat as I see the self- satisfied smiles of the council, and I know what is about to happen. I guess it was inevitable; I'm a liability and now, as of today, old enough to be considered for it.

"Red Hood!" my prosecutor, judge, and jury yells. "It is for the safety of the village and those within it that once a year we make a sacrifice to the wolf in our woods. Now, you are granted an opportunity to redeem yourself and repent for what you have done. For this year, you will be our sacrifice!"

Cool dread pools in my gut as the crowd around us cheers its approval; those few that sit on the fence mutter their assent to the necessity of the decision. A choked cry is all my father can manage at the sentence, and my brothers are shocked beyond all reason. I smile at them sadly and motion for them to go on, pretending that I would be home in a few minutes.

I don't struggle or resist as I am bound with ropes and hurried into the town square for all to see. The news spreads quickly, and soon the entire town knows what has transpired. I keep my head up and stand tall under the weight of my bindings. Faces blur into each other as I am pulled to the gates of the town and stopped in the town square. I have a plan already forming in my mind. I'll play along for now, but I've no intention of becoming dinner to some wild animal.

I stand for hours as people come and go, soaking in the excitement like wretched sponges. These are the faces I have grown up with, but any kinship or sympathy is lost in the miniscule festival. This was a celebration for making it through the year to the next sacrifice. Nothing was orchestrated or coordinated, people just bring something with them and celebrate blindly. My mouth is dry with thirst, but I won't ask for something to eat or drink and so I decide to stand and wait until midnight.

A small cup of water is held up to my face. I look down and see Todd holding it up for me. I take a few shallow sips and gradually drain the cup.

Todd looks like he is ready to cry as he pulls the cup away. "Don't be sad. This entire party is for me in some weird way. I'd say this is a pretty interesting birthday all things considered," I reassure him. A dark smile flashes across his face. If there is one thing me and my brothers have in common, it's a dry sense of humor.

"Just don't be late or I'll lock you out again," he sighs, trying hard to enjoy the last few moments before I would be taken away.

"Dad would never let you do that," I laugh, remembering all the times that Todd had tried to keep me from coming home.

"Whoever says he will find out?" he finally laughs sadly. He turns to go before I am escorted into the woods. "Make sure you get away before it gets you," he says, still turned around, and then he is gone.

I feel the knife along the inside of my boot and smile to myself. The moon climbs into the sky, unhindered by my troubles or prayers. I watch as it reaches its zenith, and a strange calm falls over me like a down blanket as members of the crowd take my ropes and head out of town. I feel no fear, no remorse, and no sense of urgency, like when I am in the forest hunting.

They lead me into the woods and tie my ropes to a tree covered with deep pitted scratches, collected from years of repeated abuse. I keep my face blank and expressionless as they take several other ropes and tie them down to a few stakes a couple of feet away. Finally, they bring my hands to my feet and hogtie me. When all this is done, they leave back down the path they used to get here.

When they are gone and their noise fades away, I begin my escape plan. I can barely reach the handle in my boot with my teeth. It takes a few seconds of squirming and gnawing to draw it out enough for me to close my fingers around it. Still wrapped in the bliss of calmness, I cut through the first set of ropes and free my hands.

A single howl pierces the night from far off. I look up and notice a flock of birds take wing and disappear over the horizon. My calm slipping away, I study the ropes and make three more quick cuts before the ropes fall away from me. I stand up and work out the knots in my shoulders before I take a quick survey of my surroundings. The hairs on my neck stand on end as a rustle in the bushes gives away the presence of a rather large creature. I catch a glimpse of earthy brown fur disappearing back into the brush. I don't waste another second in sheathing my knife and sprinting from the clearing.

I am near the edge of the woods and can make out the smoke of the village nearby. I veer away from it and make for the stream, hoping the wolf would lose my scent and its interest in me. I hear the steady thudding of feet behind me, slowly gaining with each passing second. The steps are wrong for a wolf of any size, but running for my life takes up too much of my concentration.

I stare ahead of me, searching for obstacles that might hinder the progress of the advancing beast. Vaguely, I'm aware of the trail left by the buck earlier today, and laughter bursts up from my heaving chest unexpectedly. This whole situation is absurd. Despite all the time I spend in the forest, I never once considered that I may eventually be hunted beneath the same trees that were my solace. I struggle to breathe through the laughter that refuses to cease. I already feel my limbs burn with exertion.

As I break the cover of the trees by the stream, I misjudge the distance of my stride and fall, skidding to a stop a few feet away. I taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth as my head bounces off the ground. My body screams in agony as inertia leaves it in a heap on the ground. I still can't stop laughing and decide that I have gone completely insane. My shirt and pants are little more than strips of cloth, barely holding together. Besides a few shallow scrapes, everything looks alright. The laughing subsides to bubbly giggles. I stand slowly, trying to keep from ending up on the ground again. I look to my left and spot the flat rock I had left the buck's heart on earlier; it is gone now. I hear the clacking of loose rocks behind me as the creature stops behind me, panting heavily. Hopelessness grips me and I sit down on the rock. Even if I killed the wolf, the blood will attract more predators and I am in no condition to deal with any of that.

I take the knife from my boot and throw it to the ground; the blade buried up to the hilt in the soft earth. "Bon appétit," I grumble, all giggles gone now, replaced by hiccups. I can only imagine Todd's face as he walked away, hoping I would survive; but I think we both knew it wasn't going to happen. I notice again that the sounds of the wolf are wrong, but now I can place the error. I hear two steps instead of four.

Before I get any further in my thoughts, a pair of brown, furred feet steps into view. They are bigger than my boots and tipped with sharp, black claws. I can see the calves too and notice how much muscle there is. These legs are obviously used to running and carrying huge amounts of weight effortlessly through long distances.

I just stare at its feet, numb to any form of emotion other than curiosity and nervous excitement as my brain starts to shut down. It makes no move and neither do I as the minutes tick by. Unable to resist any longer, I look up into this creature's face.

Piercing, blue eyes stare at me with a gloating satisfaction. The fur is the color of rich earth and traces the sharp ears and canine bone structure. He, for it is a he if a certain anatomical structure is anything to judge by, is truly a being of beauty. Bulging muscle is abundant everywhere to be seen. No matter how much I study him, I can't get over the dazzling sapphire orbs gazing at me. This is where the true lethality of the ghouls lies. They are an alien beauty that cannot be expressed adequately enough to do them justice.

He lifts a clawed hand and holds it level to my face. "Are you afraid, pup?" he asks in a deep, gravelly voice that sends delicious shivers up my spine.

My thoughts all slow down like my mind is filled with honey. Somewhere in the murkiness of my brain, I come up with an answer. "It would be foolish to say I'm not." I'm on autopilot now and try my best to logically figure out what was happening. I'm not afraid, but I guess simply stating that would likely lead to painful repercussions.

The wolf crouches down to eye level. "Foolish, but not a lie," he states. He studies me in silence for a few more moments. "That's a fairly interesting color," he comments, running a clawed finger down a scarlet lock of my hair.

Goosebumps rise along my skin as the contact excites something in me. I have no idea how I can possibly respond to this, but I try my best. "I could say the same for you," I say, lifting my hand and pointing to one of his eyes.

He chuckles and continues to look at me quizzically. "You are different from the others," he finally says. That statement reminds me of the predicament I am in at the moment. I guess he realizes this as well. "Now all that remains is to figure out what to do with you, pup."

I stare at him evenly, surprised by how his words caress my ears like a symphony. The meaning of them screams in my ears violently, but my mind can't care less. A light breeze carries his scent to me and my nose is in heaven as it picks up hints of cedar, smoke, and a heady animal musk. All of these smells are what I learned to appreciate from the forest.

"Why aren't you afraid, pup?" the wolf asks.

I can't think clearly while I look into his eyes, so I turn to the moon and stars. "I don't know. Maybe I just don't care. Perhaps I've fulfilled my purpose in life and now can just drift through my remaining time alive. Likely, it's because the forest is a peaceful presence all its own, and I feel that I can just let go. Whatever the case, I'm simply not," I reply. I know this isn't the time for philosophical theories, but it's either those or smart ass comments, and the former seems more likely to allow me to retain my current state of existence . . . and facial structure.

"You laughed during the chase." A statement requiring an explanation.

"Adrenaline, exhaustion, panic, and insanity are all possible reasons for that," I say, but bite my lip with dissatisfaction at my answer. "No, that's not it, not entirely anyway. It was the hunt, the rush of an impending capture and the consequence of that capture," I revise, remembering the deer and the rush that I felt with every hunt.

He laughed loudly, something that shakes his entire body with the force of his mirth. He sits in silence for a moment as he looks at me. "Who did you piss off to end up tied to the tree? Is that council of idiots still in charge?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, they're still in charge. I had some information they didn't want people knowing."

He shakes his head in disgust. "I can't believe people like that are still around to this extent."

I'm curious now, unsure how he learned about them or people in general. "What do you mean?"

The wolf smirks. "I've been around a long time, pup. Not to mention, every year the poor sap tied to the tree has his own story to tell."

There it is again, the elephant in the room. Now is as good a time as any to ask the question. "What happens to the people we send out here?"

The wolf's face darkens. "Nothing usually, if I get there in time," he closes his eyes and sinks into a stream of thoughts.

"If you get there in time?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

He looks at me, bemused. "What do you think happens to them when I get there?"

"I-I don't know, t-they j-just disappear and are never seen again, sometimes there's blood," I stammer.

"So you automatically assume that they were killed, even when there isn't blood? I hate to burst your bubble pup, but that's not how someone like me works," the wolf states.

"But who are you?" I finally ask, looking at him again. He is beautiful in every sense of the word. It's hard to focus, but I don't care.

"My name is Talen," he responds.

"A name doesn't count," I say.

Talen takes a breath as he begins. "Fine then; I'm one of the first ghouls from the flash. I have lived in these woods for the past couple of decades, and then your council started throwing their unwanted in here. Before the flash, I worked at one of the nuclear facilities. I researched different techniques of GM to make larger, healthier amounts of food. I've also noticed you in the woods from time to time. Earlier today, I saw you with the buck. Now, it's your turn."

I take a second to look at him a bit more. "My name is Red Hood. I'm this year's sacrifice to the wolf in the woods. Before this, I did my best to provide for my brothers and village. I hunt only what, and when, I absolutely need to. I try to do right by others; but that, like now, sometimes blows up in my face. Currently, I'm betrayed by my village at the words of a pompous set of hypocrites."

Talen stands up, and for the first time, I get a good view at his crotch. A heavenly musk drifts from his groin. His sheath is thicker than my fist and a bit longer. His balls are the size of oranges, at least. The same shaggy, brown fur covers him, but it's thinner. I can't tear my eyes off of that piece of wolf meat and my pants are feeling a bit too tight for comfort.

I've never really looked around at any of the girls of the village, but some of the men caught my eye every now and then. Standing a foot above them kind of kills the initial appeal for me though. Talen was about seven feet tall and practically bursting with muscle, my kind of . . . wolf.

Talen notices me looking and chuckles lightly as he sniffs the air. "See something you like, pup?"

I blush and tear my eyes off of his package in a vain attempt to cover up the fact I was staring.

He crouches down to my level and turns my head to him. "I asked you a question."

I turn my eyes down, big mistake. Once again, I'm looking at his crotch up close and personal. "Why bother asking a question that you already know the answer to?"

He lets go of me and turns around before laughing again. "You really are something else, pup," he scratches his head in the semblance of thought, presumably forgetting about the crotch predicament. "If you could do anything right now, what would it be?"

I'm taken aback, not really sure where this is going to lead. "As long as my brothers are safe, I don't really need to do anything." I answer without hesitation once the question settled in.

He waves the answer away and walks up to me. "No, if you could do anything, what would it be?" he reiterated.

I don't understand the question. "I don't want anything, as long as my family is okay."

Talen is frustrated now and jabs at my chest with a clawed digit. "That's not what I mean," he says, jabbing me again. "What do you want?" another jab, "If anything and everything were available to you right this moment, what would you choose?" and another, "Forget about family and obligation! If you could choose one moment to be greedy and take all you wanted in one grab, what would it be?" My chest hurts, but I see what he is asking.

I think hard. If I could have anything, what would I take? Revenge on the council? No, they wouldn't be worth the one moment of freedom. Give my family everything they ever wanted? Not that either. This is supposed to be something about me. What would make me happier than anything? I can't even think properly with this wolf slinging his junk around in my face . . . hmm. No, that's not it either. When I hunt in the forest, I feel at home and peaceful. When I am here, everything else just fades away into the trees . . . trees . . . trees. Yeah, I guess that one works. Total freedom from responsibility and other people sounds like paradise in the making; but that's not entirely fitting either. Power. Power is what I want, no what I need.

"I want power. The power to escape and fight back against anything, that's what I want," I answer.

Talen's eyebrows arch in some expression I can't read for the life of me. "You really are different from the others,"

I finger a lock of my hair in wonder. "I still have no clue what you are talking about," I say. Talen shakes his head in disbelief and thinks about something again. "What about you?"

He perks his ear. "What about me?" he asks.

"If you could have something, what would it be?" I explain.

He shrugs the question off. "That's not important."

"Why not?"

"Because I already have everything I want, and those that I don't are easily within reach," he explains

"What are those things you don't have?" I ask, turning the inquisition back onto him, finally.

He smirks at me with a predatory gleam in his eyes that makes my cock throb in the remnants of my pants. "Do you really want to know?"

Hesitantly, I nod my head. Before I can do anything else, Talen puts one of his hands behind my head and slams our lips together. This close, I can smell his musk all the more. I feel his whiskers tickling my cheeks as his tongue seeks entrance into my mouth. I part my lips and feel his tongue delve inside without hesitation. The hand on the back of my head keeps me from pulling back, not that I want to. My dick strains against the fabric of my pants as Talen starts grinding his hips into my belly.

He pulls back with a shit eating grin, panting and eyes glazed over in lust.

I take a deep breath and laugh shakily. "That's one hell of an answer,"

Talen leans down by my ear. "I know plenty about you Red, but none of that is important now. Right now, just answer one question and that will decide everything,"

I nod my affirmative.

"Do you want me?" Talen asks, one of his furry hands on the side of my face, rubbing along my cheek in shallow circles.

My breathing stops in my throat. I want to say that I don't even know him, but that's a lie. From the hearts on the stone to the silent watches in the woods, I have gotten to know him in a way not many do. With his hand touching me, I feel safer than I ever have before. Seeing him, I realize that I don't need to be the super strong boy who takes care of his brothers.

I try to speak past the cotton ball lodged in my throat, but it still takes two attempts. "Y- Yes," I muster.

Talen's eyes spark in glee, but he contains himself. "Yes, what?"

Now, it's my turn to smile at him. "Yes, I want you. I want you to take me and be with me."

He cups my face in his hands. "What do you want to be to me?"

My brain clicks into a set of gears that spill the words from my mouth. "I want to be tied to you," I say, placing a hand over one of his. I stare right into his sapphire eyes before continuing. "I want to be your mate."

With those words still on the air, Talen throws all reservations to the wind and wraps his arms around me.

His muzzle locks onto my neck with a series of tender kisses. He works down to my shoulder and bites me lightly. His teeth grazing over my skin sends bolts of energy straight to my groin. I gasp and moan as he nips away at my skin, slowly dragging one of his claws down the scraps of my shirt, leaving me bare-chested.

I push into his chest and groan as his soft fur slides along my skin and nipples with a feathery lightness and the slightest hint of static friction. He places his paw on my clothed erection and palms at my cock firmly, kneading out drop after drop of my precum into the shredded pants. With a flick of his wrist and claw, they too fall away from me, leaving me bared before Talen's hungry gaze.

The risen moon casts it luminescent glow on to my pale flesh, making it look like argent silk. Talen trails a padded finger down my chest and stops just above my throbbing erection. Crystalline precum spurts out and trails down my shaft in a miniscule river in pace with my rapid heartbeat.

My face burns with blood as I am subjugated to the delicious torture of his touch. Talen chortles within his throat as he pinches my nipple, sending my sexual frustration through the roof. I can only breathe in shallow pants as every new sensation goes straight to my dick and is expelled all too slowly in another drop of transparent goop.

He lowers his head and begins to gently tongue the pert bud of flesh and nerves that he has just finished tweaking. I lean back onto my hands as I go light headed. I whimper in need as his sheathe brushes against my shaft again and again, caressing me with its soft, short fur. Talen looks up at me and smirks before he lowers himself even more.

I moan loudly as he slowly strokes my shaft with one hand and plays with my balls with the other. I nearly shoot my load just from the initial contact, but a firm grip at the base of my shaft stops that from occurring. Talen looks at me from the corner of his eyes before he deliberately, slowly drags his tongue up to the head of my dick, purple with need. He moans and closes his eyes as he tastes me and in one quick motion takes me down to the root. Fire spreads out from my crotch in a euphoric flash as I gush even more precum into his muzzle. The moist warmth of his mouth is like nothing I have ever felt before. His tongue wraps around my quivering member, licking up any remaining precum from my shaft.

My balls draw up to my body in preparation of orgasm, but Talen pulls off just before the point of no return. The cold air rushes over my aching erection in playful, biting wisps. I look to Talen and smile as his sheathe is placed in front of my face. It has swollen up to almost double its previous size. I can't even wrap my hand around it as I skin it back from his erecting wolf cock. A wall of musk hits my senses with the force of a brick. I'm in heaven as I inhale even more of his wonderful scent, smelling like the wood and distinctively male. I can practically see steam rising from the red piece of meat. One of Talen's hands is on the back of my head, pushing me onto his throbbing dick. I open my mouth and take in as much of his 8" long and 3" thick cock as I can. I only get about four inches in before his tapered tip hits the back of my mouth. I hear him groan as he gently bucks into my mouth, making me gag slightly.

The hand on the back of my head keeps me from backing off too much, but I can't care less. I love him taking control like this, and I nearly cum when he bucks again. I get a bit more control over my gag reflex as he repeatedly humps my face and soon can hold it back for the most part. Somehow, Talen notices this and takes my head in both of his hands and pulls me down on his tool a few more inches. His thick meat rams against the back of my throat as he begins to grind his cock against my tongue and palate. His tongue is lolling out the side of his mouth as he thrusts in and out of my mouth quickly. The sensation of being face fucked is a huge turn on. The amount of dominance he exerts is intoxicating, and I just want to give in and be his subby little bitch.

I feel his salty precum running straight down my throat and his knot, just outside of his sheathe, hitting my nose. I feel him push a thick digit into my ass and groan in ecstasy. I drink in the smell of his musk from the source and redouble my efforts to make this epitome of sex cum. His knot swells slightly in response, and his breathing picks up. He pulls out my mouth, and a thick splotch of precum lands on my lips. I lick it up slowly, savoring the salty taste. He fingers my hole a bit longer before he pulls that out too.

He picks me up gingerly and sits down on the flat stone. He looks me in the eye as he slowly lowers me down onto his thick cock. The tapered tip of Talen's cock easily slides past the ring of muscles, and he's in. I slam my eyes shut and clench my teeth as I am nearly split in half. Inch after thick inch slides into me, and I fight not to squirm, knowing that will just hurt a lot more than this. After what feels like hours, I feel his hips pressed flush against my ass. I take a few deep breaths as I get used to his size and open my eyes to his smiling face.

He ruffles my hair and licks my face. "You're doing great; that should be the last bit of pain for now. Are you ready to move yet?"

After a few more shaky breaths, I nod. He picks me up an inch or two slowly and slides me back down onto his lap. His dick burns as I still try and stretch around it, but underneath that fading burn is a spark of pleasure. He lifts me up a bit more this time and brings me down onto his lap a bit harder than last time, angling his complementary thrust a bit differently. A field of stars explodes across my vision in a surge of searing rapture as his thick meat slides against my prostate. All pain is forgotten as the burning settles into bubbling warmth in my balls.

I give myself over to raw instinct and press my lips against Talen's in a furious burst of passion. My tongue leaps into his mouth and he gladly returns the favor with gusto. All reservations are gone as he lifts me up and slams me back down, resulting in me moaning like a wanton whore. Again and again he thrusts and I groan, moan, and beg for him to slam his hot rod deeper into me. I kiss him furiously, trying to smother the fire in my balls that refuses to be quelled.

It's not long before I feel Talen's knot bouncing off my stretched pucker. He picks me up again and lays me down on a bed of moss as he repositions himself above me and drives his cock into me. He kisses me back and grunts in frustration as his knot gains no ground. I push against the orange sized piece of meat, just as determined as Talen to get it inside me. Talen starts to put all his weight behind his thrusts and his knot pushes inside me just a bit. I wince as my abused hole is forced to stretch even more under the barrage of thrusts.

All form of rhythm in his thrusts disappears as he feels the pressure keeping him from tying with me give little by little. I moan as more and more of his knot works its way into me; and after a few more thrusts, I feel the widest part of him slip past the ring of muscles and slip into me. I scream out in orgasm as his knot pulses against my battered prostate. The fire in my balls releases in a hot spray of cum that flies up onto Talen's chest, matting his fur down.

The walls of my ass clamp down on his knot, and Talen howls out his victory as torrents of cum spew into my bowels with the force of a storm. I gasp as Talen locks his jaws at the base of my neck, breaking the skin in a mating bite. After a minute, the torrent slows down to a trickle, and that soon degrades to the occasional spurt when I clench. He releases the bite and licks at the marks on my skin.

"I guess I got a bit carried away," he said sheepishly. He repositioned us so that his back was propped up against a tree and I was back in his lap.

Exhausted, I lean my head on his chest. "I fucking loved it," I pant.

He chuckles, "I know you did."

We stay still for a few moments, waiting for Talen's knot to deflate. I don't help the process with my clenching and shifting. I love feeling full and content in a way I never knew was possible and am reluctant to let the experience end too quickly.

I look up to him, smiling, and kiss him. No passion or lust is behind this, simply a desire to feel close. He folds his arms around me, and he slowly dozes off. I guess it took a little more out of him than it did for me.

My neck aches from the bite, but I can't make myself care about it. I'm in the forest, surrounded by the tranquil trees that have been my comfort for years, I'm in the arms of one sexy wolf, and I am finally away from the restrictions of the council. No one will know what happened to Red Hood, and that is just fine with me.

Best birthday ever!