The Werewolf Conundrum
This is a story commission I've done for Teufel
Description: Tasked with researching a werewolf community by putting boots on the ground, Truffles and his recon team quickly get rounded up by the savvy lycans. Using a divide and conquer method, Truffles is taken in for private questioning by the reclusive Rowena. The sassy, mature female werewolf turns out to have a penchant for the inexperienced variety of males who she can't wait to initiate into the world of unbridled pleasure.
The characters in this story belong to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dragonteufel/
***The Werewolf Conundrum***
Truffles shouldn't have felt so calm. Not with a werewolf at his back, nudging him with the tip of his own dagger to keep him moving. Though the scabbard shielded the deadly blade from puncturing the thin material of his camo outfit, it failed to make the poking any less annoying.
Asking her to stop it, no matter what honeyed words he employed, wouldn't make any difference. He was her captive to a glorified prisoner exchange. A very one-sided one, where the rest of the werewolf tribe took his team back to their village while she singled him out on account of his species. Too bad her unnatural height, at least a foot taller, marked her as an entirely different breed. With that flowing blond hair she retained from her former life--and form--she could have been no different than a maned wolf such as him, able to infiltrate society and reclaim a life previously thought to have been lost.
Assuming she even wanted such a thing....Werewolves were a finnicky people. Those who didn't outright succumb to their lupine instincts turned mad from the struggle of trying to remain rational, and if neither of the two happened, chances are they retained at least a majority of their previous life. That included memories and personality alike, of which this female had far too little.
"Wouldn't this work better if we share name--oww!"
"You can keep calling me that. I like the sound of it," the brown-striped werewolf, naked down to the pads of her paws, hissed from behind. "Never been good with names, personally. Especially those of unwelcomed visitors who drug, kidnap us, and shove us in a lab to be dissected until there's nothing left."
"I--whoever has come before us, I assure you that gahhh!" This time, she aimed for the ribs, causing Truffles to lurch forward and shove a hand to his aching side.
"Gahh doesn't sound too reassuring. Rather stick to the truth I know than the lamentations of a pitiful pup who can't even walk straight," she said, pointing him down a trodden path winding between increasingly taller hills. The birds sang their usual songs. The sun shone with the same intensity, its radiance slipping between boughs laden in autumnal tones. Where was the indicative yet elusive Shimmer? The curtain that enveloped every forest, regardless of the species of trees populating it? He had been told one could spot it with the naked eye, should they stare at it from the right angle, but Truffles noticed no such thing. If it began to fade--if the research on the so-called blight proved noteworthy--perhaps its causes would also start to diminish.
"All those years, and you still haven't figured out much on what the Shimmer is, huh? Doesn't that make you the savages and us the enlightened?" the female joined him at his side, her white-colored paws almost twice as big as his. "The more you fight back, the better it adapts. It's thanks to the bodies you supply that we can feed the shimmer, helping it find the best way to combat your kind."
His kind. As if she didn't use to be part of them a decade and a half back or so. The biggest change that had happened with the appearance of the blight weren't its effects, but the perception of the transformed who preferred to revert back to tribalism.
At least if he could discover at least a modicum of information on what the shimmer was. On how it appeared. Whether it had one or multiple origins, and what generated it in the first place.
The transformation puzzled him just as much, but the wolfess would claim his bollocks as payment for divulging that. Sifting truth from fabrication often required more than just a green recruit down on his luck, decently knowledgeable on canine behavior as he was .
Truffles knew the bare minimum, just like everyone else. Every human touched by the shimmer would have been too preoccupied with the throes of their metamorphosis to accurately recall the crucial details, more so if it lasted on the longer end. None of the captured ones Truffles referred to as guests painted clear picture of the process, offering divergent accounts. The species also varied, though no accountings of anything other than mammals had been reported as the outcome of the transformation.
One thing remained a constant amidst all this insanity. Once removed from their habitat and taken past the reach of the Shimmer, the spectacular powers they boasted faded. That's what led his team to become the captives this time around. Like the several recon teams before, they proved once again that the military was ill equipped in handling werewolves who could weave and bend the Shimmer in whichever way they pleased, so long as they trained in its secrets.
If such a thing was even possible. Truffles preferred the theory that the ability to manipulate Shimmer came with the transformation, touching only a few select individuals. For if they could all boast the feats of a single pack member from this recently encountered band of werewolves...
"Rowena," she suddenly said, unprompted. "Not Wina, not Rowy. Rowena."
"I'm--"
She stabbed his nametag with a claw, chuckling. "Spare me of a shitty first name. The last one is bad enough as it is."
She formally greeted him to acknowledge their name exchange as she led him thus far. Through a whack of his sheathed dagger against his outstretched hand.
"Awwwr, you inconsiderate..." Truffles' anger immediately lessened when engaged by Rowena's seething glare.
"Keep pace and shut up. They're leaves, not needles. You still have those outside, don't you? Or have you turned everything into a concrete and metal garden for fear of the Shimmer finding a way in?"
How long had it been since he felt leaves crunch beneath his paws, tickling at the fur between his naked pads? He could never remember the exact years like his commander did, nor repaint the setting vividly in his mind as Tharom often boasted. He had only been taken to a forest once as a child, and the only reason he remembered the trip was because his father had carried him back in his arms after getting his paw stabbed by a shard of glass hidden inside the grass.
No more exploring the wilder areas after that. The superstitious lot claimed that the Shimmer was nature's response to the atrocities civilization wreaked on the natural habitats. In retribution, it turned those located in those spaces into the very animals they hunted, spitting them back into the cities as mindless beasts. Those who retained their bearing remained shrouded within the Shimmer's protective embrace, while the feral variety was imbued with an unnatural thirst for human blood.
Pawns, ready to be sacrificed for reasons nobody had deciphered in fifteen years and counting.
Worse still were the doubts. The racism. Once you had other intelligent races pop up, eyes often turned to those sharing their similarities, making everyone question whether people like Truffles, who had shared their entire history with humans, had been part of a much grander and nefarious scheme.
Her cabin was located in a peaceful glen, surrounded by gardening patches filled with various types of vegetables. The bleating of goats also caught his attention. Could they not discern that she was no longer a human? How did she eat them, even? Raw or cooked?
"In," Rowena poked his back, leading him inside a vestibule filled by the pleasant smell of wood mixed with earthy tangs from the various gardening tools stacked in the corner. "Nah ah," she stopped him as he reached for the door leading into the living room.
"Strip first. I'm not letting you smear everything with the human scent clinging to your clothes."
To further motivate him, she brandished what used to be his dagger, comfortable with its grip, its weight, its feel. No wonder she didn't flinch at the sight of it. This was one woman he wished not get on the wrong side of!
"Unless huddling up in the woodshed is more of your thing."
"The first time my nakedness buys me something," Truffles tried to keep things comfortable between them. Friendly. Untroubled by whatever demands she might make to test his mettle. He needed time to search for clues and patterns that helped decipher Rowena's personality. Despite her enigmatic façade, she wasn't exactly a closed book. If her behavior hadn't given a few vital clues away by now, then the distance they traveled to a remote cabin far removed from their town said enough on how she approached this werewolf matter.
Like him, she found solace in depending on nobody but herself, interacting with groups on a case by cases basis, and solely on matters that required it.
"Awfully quick to free those up..." Rowena grabbed him by the balls in quite the muzzle-clenching and literal fashion, her astute glare seemingly penetrating into his soul. "Which are you? A pervert or a manipulator? And don't say you're scared, because that would be the shittiest lie you can come up with," she added a little squeeze to test for a whimper, but none came.
His fortitude brought a faint smile to her face, painting him at least as a capable male able to withstand a little discomfort if it meant upholding his principles.
Truth be told, this wasn't the first time Truffles had someone's fingers clenched around his bollocks, demanding something of him. Came with the position, he supposed, more so when all his superiors turned out to be females.
"None. I'm a survivalist. Even if that means having my eggs smashed against one another." Truffles groaned and huffed while they gauged one another. She must've liked what she saw, for her grip turned light, almost pleasurable given the context of her own naked form.
"Mhh...good enough. I don't trust you one bit, but a male who can take a ball squeeze is a good start," she traded the plumpness of his sack for the cold iron of the door handle.
"Come along."
"Can I at least put on..."
Rowena shut the door to the vestibule behind him in answer to his suspended question.
"Take a seat over there and wait. Lost a morning thanks to your little raid already," Rowena's gestured to the couch set between a wardrobe and a dust-caked bookcase filled with books that best described the state of her cabin.
Rural. Antique. And surprisingly well preserved. Whether she or her parents maintained it, Truffles couldn't tell, but this cabin seemed taken straight out of an ad about last-century countryside living. From tapestries and animal furs on the walls to shelves with various wooden sculptures locked behind a glass pane, her place oozed an authentic charm. And the plants! She had an entire garden of them, all lined up along the windows.
Everything smelled clean, from the inviting scent of wood to the pleasant staleness of leatherbound tomes. While following her cue, Truffles watched Rowena place several new candles into a three-pronged stick, already preparing for the coming of the evening.
Sitting down while his captor milled about as usual while blood continued to slither through her fur from the cut he inflicted proved to be painfully strenuous. Who even watered her numerous plants, completely unconcerned with a still open, still bleeding wound?
"Ghrr..." Truffles groaned, clenching and relaxing his fingers, pawing at the pleasant rug to distract himself from the nerves welling within him. He had no reason to be concerned with Rowena. She had studied her kind time and again, yet there was an air of unpredictability about her; a spontaneity that wouldn't be encountered in books.
"Wonder what type of dazzling life you lead that a few minutes of wait get your toes all antsy," Rowena murmured as she leaned forward to spread the water to the outer edges of a larger pot. Her tail inadvertently rose, uncovering the delightful pinkness of her smooth spade.
Truffles should have looked away. He had to, for decency's sake, only...he couldn't, mesmerized by the fulness of Rowena's vulva. By its bare, intimate shape tucked within a nest of cream-colored fur. She kept that position for several seconds, pretending to check the leaves of a plant for signs of overwatering while her tail conspicuously flagged or swished to the sides, never covering her gender.
"So much for being the spokesperson for your party. A glimpse of pussy's all it takes, huh?"
"Don't get to see much of that, where I'm from," he chose to remain honest with the glaring lack of options when it came to finding a female of his kind, refusing to shield the image of his knot swelling up in his sheathe. Pretending to check her home was too much of a transparent strategy, so instead, he tossed his arms back and adopted a relaxed stance, owning up his male impulses to stroke her ego.
Or her lust, depending on how long it had been for her as well.
"Not getting much of the other type either, I take it. Or you don't like the feel of it, all loose and hairy?"
"It's not hairy!" Truffles scrunched his muzzle, only for his stance to diminish as truth inevitably wormed its way to the surface. "At least...most of the time."
"I had one like that," Rowena emitted a low, guttural sound akin to a giggle while she continued to tend to her plants, unconcerned with what Truffles made of her exposed privates or bleeding wound both. "Would you have found it off-putting?"
"It...depends," he chose to err on the side of caution with a neutral response, one that provoked no reaction from the now indifferent Rowena.
Not good, but not terrible. He needed answers; quirks brought to life by her reactions. Anything was better than utter blankness!
"Not for me. I wouldn't get raw and sore for any male. You've got your porn stars for that. But I guess changing forms gave me the best of what I could have asked. The right type of fur surrounding a most pleasing shape. Wouldn't you agree?"
Soon as her water stopped flowing, Rowena turned to face him, wearing that inquisitive look of hers. "You're much different than what I pictured you beneath those clothes. The stripes are a nice touch amidst that brown. Make you look more like a warrior than that paltry human outfit."
Truffles' dark ears swiveled away, a blush warming his spot-speckled cheeks. He could practically feel her gaze pierce through the white fur of his belly, twirling his guts into a nervous clump. The pink of his tip also jutted more than it should, forcing his hands to cover it at the expense of a frail, short-lived moan.
"Grab one of them towels to cum into if you're feeling like masturbating," Rowena tried to maintain her nonchalance while turning around, but the need-filled shudder of her vulva spoke otherwise. "Still got a few things to finish while you finish yourself off."
"Such as walking around like an alpha figure while dripping blood all over your floor?"
"This a turn-off for you?" Rowena made a point of collecting enough of it on her finger before licking it clean. "You're not used to pain, are you? With that pretty a face, it's an obvious conclusion to draw."
"Yours isn't too hard on the eye either," he mentioned, not at all bothered by the small scars she wore across her muzzle, likely from a first encounter with the more unsavory bunch of werewolves. "And you kept your hair too. At least you're not completely feral."
"Mane," she snarled, baring her fangs. "Thought your species would know the difference."
"I was born this way. You were...made into a wolf. It's just a form to you, isn't it?" he tried to find out whether members of her kind somehow found a way to reverse the magic that befell them, or at the very least, to shift between the two forms at will.
"Hrrf...hrahaha!" Rowena's growly laughter was as unsettling as her naked appearance to the eyes of a young wolf in poor control of his impulses. He should have despised her body, her feral looks, the trite use of her canine-shaped vulva...and yet, his cock still stirred on account of her nakedness. Damn the truthfulness of his sergeant's words! Being with a naked woman only once before had been insufficient at weeding out the nefarious appetites plaguing every male.
More so one who hadn't masturbated for the better part of a week. His interest had plummeted during the anxiousness of his first deployment, only for it to now churn within his eager balls.
In a dizzying display of speed, Rowena pounced his unsuspecting form, forcing him to splay on his back while showing the submissive white of his belly.
"There is no other form," she hissed in his face, snapping her jaws for an extra dose of fright. "This is it. You either get used to it, or I send you back to your merry band of ignorant peasants."
"Wonder if they get similar sexual offers," Truffles's expression turned wry at her overly exaggerated attempt at intimidation.
"Mmmm, they get offers alright..." Rowena's finger trailed down his chin, seeking the fluffy haven of his chest to comb through. "You can join them if you so wish. If the occasional tease proves to be unbearable to your sexually frustrated mind."
"I'm not sexually frustrated!" Truffles snapped, grabbing her wrist to still that shudder-inducing hand of hers. Her caress felt too tempting, too successful in its manipulative attempt to slink under his skin. "I'm simply...offended by your uncouthness."
"If the male doesn't take the initiative, someone else has to," the wrinkles on her muzzle immediately dissipated, replaced with the sort of longing interest he had witnessed in all those who wished to flee their existential dread for one ephemeral moment. The entire world evolved, but the countryside remained more or less the same, where people acted impulsively with no regards to consequences.
To what his seed might spawn in her belly, should he...
"That's good enough for me," Rowena retreated, but not before ruffling his raven-black mane to belittle him further. "I wonder if what you're dwelling on makes good masturbation material."
"I don't masturbate," Truffles mistakenly let out half a truth at best, weakening his position by being disingenuous. "I...prefer the closeness of companionship."
"As do we all," her voice gained a threatening allure, rougher and dangerous. "But be wary of this game you play. I'm not used to losing."
"Good. Neither am I."
Perhaps this was his calling. Of making werewolves laugh in that growly, shiver-inducing way of theirs. While Rowena strolled over to an aged oak cabinet in surprisingly good form, Truffles pondered on his options, of which there were not many. The biggest irony was Rowena's presence. Her abilities and their unexaggerated potency could fell three, maybe even four parties of hunters similar to his, all solely based on what he had witnessed. She was certainly capable of more. Her confident stroll suggested as much.
He didn't only linger on her offensive capabilities. She warranted more than crude logic, or to be approached from a military angle. Beyond the origin of her current form lied an attractive wolfess whose superior height acted as the sole differentiating factor between the two. Unlike his stiffer and more cocky mane, hers had an elegant flow as it wove down her neck to cup her shoulders, gold as wheat at harvest. Her stripes had a fuller breadth, similar to those of a tiger, only broader and scarcer as they trailed down her strong limbs tipped with white-colored paws. Her tail retained the coloring of her body, orange and striped on the top and a gentle white toward the underside.
Most expressive were her ears, not erect and attentive like his, but brown, cute and floppy, made all the more endearing by the white gradient on their tip.
"You would be down on your knees, sucking my pussy dry in gratitude if you knew what I saved you from. If you think the chief and his staff treat your group to lewd innuendos..." Rowena's words trailed off as she headed over to a cabinet stacked with medical supplies. Truffles' paws tensed, ready to spring into action and help out, but the rest of his body refused to budge, anchored to the couch by what she just said.
They...weren't tortured, were they? Many of those taken in by the were folk turned by the Shimmer returned to spin unconvincing tales, as if they had their memories combed through and surgically extracted to outline an incomplete puzzle. Most of the hidden messages conveyed this way had a common denominator, a desire to be left to their own devices embedded within creative threats. Would the same happen to his team? To become mindless drones in this ongoing shitfest? To some, ignorance was a bliss, but the captors often left enough to turn even the strongest minds inside out.
His focus shifted from that dreary worry back to Rowena; to her supple rump and playful tail swaying ever so softly even as she used her muzzle to help bandage a fierce wound. It appalled him, to throb with want during such a time from simply taking in her feminine forms. Contrary to his previous stance, his hands immediately rushed to cover his plump sheath together with the pink lipstick he sported. This was no longer about courage; about preserving his stance.
This was obscene!
"I don't mind it," Rowena idly mouthed, too distracted with checking her knot to notice the big picture. "In fact, I'd prefer you don't cover it. Been a while since I got such heartfelt compliment."
As she turned to him, her strawberry-colored eyes fixated on his now exposed crotch, holding there for a few seconds during which her tail swung with increasingly excited arcs.
"You haven't mated lately, huh? If at all."
Truffles considered covering himself again, but her snarl prevented him from doing it.
"Been a while since I last had seed inside me as well. The price of valuing my independence, I suppose."
"I...I think it's...normal to feel like you no longer belong...after all that's happened...."
His lapse made Rowena's thin, elegant eyebrows raise, her warming expression radiating perverse--if a bit inviting--lust. Cornered, with every chance of this situation ending on a net positive or go awfully wrong, Truffles had to tread carefully; to go along with the interest his body exuded without risking of offending her by outright rejecting her advances.
"As if you'd know of what happened. You treat the phenomenon that made me a wolf like some sort of disease, but it can be a blessing, if approached from the right angle. And stop staring at my wounded art like I'm an invalid. Creeps me out, the way you stare at me with those big yellow eyes."
"S--sorry," Truffles shifted in an upright position, legs scrunched together to conceal the plumpness of his sheathe.
Rowena scoffed at his stiffness. Or maybe at his awkwardness. Even when she began putting the healing items back where they belonged, her eyes couldn't stop helping themselves to a few glances at his fretting form.
"You should've put a disinfectant over that," he said, noticing that she put one such bottle back without any regard for it.
"I don't need a disinfectant. Not anymore."
"Afraid that you can't manage to tie that bandage again a second time?"
Rowena responded with a seething glare as she undid her tie, removed her bandage, and did as instructed, if only to shut him up.
"I can help with that," his muzzle pointed at the small bottle she couldn't properly aim at the cut to release a few droplets of medicinal tincture over.
"That's how you think this works? That my wound would go untreated without the graceful aid of a male?"
He could only take one minute of her awkward tying technique with a single hand before he intervened, solving her problem in a matter of seconds.
"Even if you can do everything by yourself, it doesn't mean you have to."
"How utterly cliché..."
"Mhm," Truffles nodded, backing away to give her room to inspect his knot without feeling his breath over her shoulders.
Pleased with his work, Rowena headed for the nearest chair, signaling him to return to the couch.
"Better clear your mind of all the horny thoughts you harbor, for playfulness can only last for so long."
He tried. He really, really tried. Only...it came much harder than he anticipated.
All the while, at every one of her steps, Truffles couldn't stop staring at the pinkness of her naked spade; at how enchanting it looked, contrasting against the white colored fur of her underbelly.
"Perhaps if you..." Truffles gestured her to pay the closet a visit, but Rowena continued her slow, provocative steps around the chair, unashamed of her bare sex.
"I don't find it necessary," Rowena dragged the chair in front of Truffles, sitting on it like a queen before a lowly pleb. "And it helps keep you focused on something else other than escape."
"You're...actually the reason we're here," he found himself in need to reveal their objective against what protocol dictated. "More specifically, you and your people. We wish to know if you're--"
"Rational. Cooperative. Willing to subject ourselves to who knows how many tests you have in store for us."
Truffles nodded dumbly over her jovial chuckle.
"Good thing I didn't go too hard on the pathetic variety they send us over these days. I was worried I might accidentally snap a bone or two. That would be such a shame..." she aimed her gaze at that particular bone, the one between his legs.
"Right..." Truffles' ears twitched with a tinge of guilt at how their first encounter went. "Worrying about the one who actually tried to kill you while panicking. Makes sense."
Rowena slipped her fingers between one another, inching forward as if to sniff out his current set of emotions. "I'm quite confident in my ability to survive. Just not in yours."
"I had a gun. I had the better tools. All you had were taunts and--"
"A proper distraction, mrrm?" She slouched in her chair to push her vulva forward, cupping it between two fingers. "Thanks for proving my point, that wit beats whatever arsenal you and your team have brought."
"My team isn't me. If we didn't get separated, I'd have talked with them about you and not with you."
"Too bad my own team got in the way and put a damper on all that. Seems not all of us are the disorganized rabble you believe us to be."
"Then give us a reason to think more of you," Truffles' expression turned mellow, radiating concern for what might befall her people, should the military start employing the more radical methods once this cold war approach died down. "Give us something we can use."
"To who? Some stray they picked from a shelter somewhere because they no longer want to send too many of their own people anymore?"
Truffles sighed. Sometimes, truth stabbed true and deep. "They didn't pick me. I came to them, thinking that my little contribution can turn things around for everyone. It all starts with one person, right?"
"Aye. A person. The one in charge. Not some confused pup who can't even maintain an erection while under duress."
"Would you have preferred one of the other men? To treat you like the beast your features picture you as?"
Rowena leaned forward, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath tickle his whiskers. "And what of you? Just because you get hard at the sight of pussy, we're all good?"
"I don't see why we couldn't be, seeing as my guts are still where they should be."
"Courtesy of your nonexistent close combat skills," Rowena drew back with a smirk. "Were you an actual threat, I'd have treated you as such."
"Glad you didn't."
His tone remained somewhat neutral, yet his eyes showed a hint of irritation. To some degree, she was right. His lack of combat training amounted to little more than drills against inanimate targets, and wolves such as him weren't exactly populous. Given how all of them were needed at different sites across the world, it made forming bonds with one another difficult.
Enough to consider Shimmer-made alternatives.
More bothersome was the flutter in his breast. He couldn't shake off the building interest in her, finding it impossible not to dwell on her sympathetic plight. Whatever discord she had with the rest of the pack put her in a position all too similar to his, that of a loner who relished whatever opportunity came her way at filling in that nagging void.
"In retrospect, I kind of appreciate that you tried your best to subdue me all by yourself." She toyed a little more with her cookie under her attractive grin, licking her fingers to stir his heart into a frenzy. "Perhaps you're more of a male than I thought."
"I have my moments of recklessness, yes, but they usually lead me to strange places, such as this one. In the cabin of Rowena..."
"Just Rowena," she waved him off, giggling. "Didn't have much of a life before, so what better opportunity than to start fresh? New body, new perspectives."
"Such as being interviewed on how this new you came to be?" Truffles tested his luck, tail stiff and timid, ears low and fearful.
"Asking a girl her past without providing her a meal? Or perhaps...making a meal out of her?" the playful wolfess shifted in her chair suggestively, painting her wetness over the lacquered brown wood. It wasn't much of it; barely a drop, yet still enough for Truffles to draw in a sharp, stimulating breath filled with heart-pounding, instinctive attraction.
"I wouldn't...I've never...what if I'm no good at it?"
Her ears perked in disbelief. "It's just licking. Maybe a little nibbling. Beats what your companions are probably facing."
Her visible shudder unnerved him enough to put a stopper on his half-peeking erection. Backup plans seldom worked the way everyone envisioned they would, and the companions Truffles mentioned to her might not have been as friendly as he implied. When it came down to it, self-preservation instinct overpowered even the more disciplined minds. Whether they had tactful conversations with the rest of the wolves or dealt with a far more drastic scenario, Truffles found himself unable to ponder on it without feeling his spine grow icy-cold.
Lyn. Of all the rest, Lyn's safety bothered him the most. That concern killed his erection better than unappealing imagery, allowing him to get off the couch without greeting Rowena with the peeking head of his dick.
"Hrrr..." Rowena's snarl and claws that pawed at his forced him to sit back down. "We're not done, you and I. You haven't achieved much in the way of earning my trust."
"I'd trust you with everything that I am if you can at least put my mind at ease and try to...intervene before it's too late for the rest of my team."
"They can save themselves just fine. The only peril comes from their behavior, and I'm certain those who sent you prepared all manner of contingencies. So lose that dour look," she shifted a leg over the other to tempt him with subtle peeks of her half-hidden vulva, "and focus on making your host believe she did the right thing by taking you in."
Take him in to what? An interrogation? When he was supposed to be the one to ask the questions?
"Perhaps we should approach this from a different angle..." Truffles sighed, analyzing her current demeanor. She painted stark picture of the survivalist type, trying to appear strong and in control when in truth, she lacked the one thing her own abilities couldn't acquire.
Companionship.
"Why are you here, all by yourself, and not with the rest of the pack?"
"You wish to know my take on it? Or are you merely trying to justify your own stance?" Rowena drawled, one of her eyebrows raised. "If approached in the right way, loneliness can be an empowering feeling to have, knowing that whatever you do doesn't create ripples that can disturb the others. Of course, that doesn't mean I don't indulge in frivolous companionship now and then, so long as it's not the permanent sort."
"At least you had experienced relationships whereas I...I just studied them..."
"As if you missed anything of note," she said while flicking her hand in the air dismissively, "It's why I resigned to rely on myself. Nobody gives a shit about you, not unless you give them a reason to."
What a bleak view on the world. Then again, isolation did that to anybody, letting nefarious doubts creep in that distorted the truth and chipped at one's self-esteem. He wished he could help allay her pervasive loneliness; to restore her confidence in what the outside world could provide, should she take a brave stance. But what promise could he make when he only had obscure data to rely on when it came to werefolk traveling beyond the reaches of the Shimmer?
Perhaps the activists had it right. Leave the Shimmer-secluded areas to themselves, and the people living therein to govern themselves. Treat them as natural reserves, even, for that was what they became, in essence.
Rowena's resolute eyes didn't give an inch. Whatever he had to sell, she wasn't going to buy.
Not without playing her card first.
"Let's call today a draw. It's the best outcome either of us can get," the tall wolfess kicked her chair back, taking note of the darkened horizon looming beyond the leafy curtain of her plants. "If the chief wanted you to spend the night with your folks, he'd have sent someone. Guess you got lucky, sleeping in an actual bed next to female companionship."
Truffled smiled awkwardly at her innuendo, the meaning behind her flirtatious drawl so obvious in her swaying steps. Quarter of an hour ago, when his spirits ran high, he might have indulged this madness, but the creeping tiredness numbing his thoughts begged to differ. Now that his adrenaline levels began to equalize, last night's fretful two hours of sleep began catching up to him, dampening his pressing desire to wash off the metallic scent of the hovercraft impregnating his fur.
"I hope you have no qualms about my request." Rowena's firm tone hinted at a strategy that Truffles could respect. Never leave a potential enemy out of your sight. "Nothing has to happen, unless you wish it to."
She lit each of the three previously prepared candles with fire spawned from thin air, paying no heed to Truffles' sudden startle so as to not belittle him.
"You should've asked when I still had the strength to grow an erection." Truffles followed the twitching tip of her bushy tail, the groan of the floorboards muffled by the delightfully fluffy mosaic of similar rugs strewn about.
"You know what they say. Hunger starts once you begin eating."
Eating her out, she meant.
Truffles gulped down emptily at that. This was the second time she implied that, and it wasn't a coincidence. Licking her vulva a few times posed no real hurdles to him, but females with her fiery personality were quick to vent their frustrations on the inexperienced males, and her tall bulk offered little in the way of reassurance.
"I'm not going to rape you," Rowena chuckled in spite of her concerned, almost alarmed look. "Unless you're into that sort of stuff, in which case..."
She made sure to push the door open, letting the image of her room fill in her daring suggestion. Aged curtains, more grey than white, greeted Truffles, their latticework endearingly trite, especially around the edges. The horribly dull painting of a hunt hung above the queen-sized bed further emphasized the former ownership of this cabin, as did the ornamental work done on the massive wardrobe and its accompanying furniture.
"You don't like it, I can take you back to my house. It's in the village," Rowena settled the candleholder on her aged oak nightstand, embracing her pillow as if it was a lover. "There are blankets in the drawers if you'd rather--"
The creak and groan of the bed springs cut her suggestions short.
"Well...you know where they are in case you get chilly. I don't."
Of course. Why would she, when her vulva likely burned brighter than a star? Though its scent flitted from between her shuttered thighs, Truffles found himself remarkably in control of his lust. Stretched on his back, hands crossed under his head, he distantly stared at the ceiling, pondering on how good he had it compared to his human companions. While they were getting interrogated--likely tortured--he sampled the fine odors of a wolfess' scent, feeling it slither down his belly, settling into his churning balls, filling them with tingling desire.
He should have been the awkward one of the two. The squirming one. Not Rowena. Frozen to his half of the bed by indecision, Truffles remained eerily stiff so as to not trigger Rowena's suspicions with his bloating sheath.
A useless worry, considering how she kept searching for the best side to rest on, maddened by the heat welled within her vulva. Her fretful movements, snappy and sudden, had a charm to them. She tried so hard to stifle her lust. To find rest. To avert her mind from however arousal felt to her gender.
In the end, she snuck a hand down there, cutting Truffles' breath short with that lewd imagery. He instantly turned his back to her, squeezing his eyes shut to pretend that sleep finally took him in case she wished something smoother, longer, penis-shaped to allay the torments of bottled yearning.
"Awh...." A lust-filled sigh filled the silent chamber.
It didn't take Truffles long to piece together what was happening. In the absence of a blanket's cover, the secretive motions of Rowena's swaying wrist betrayed their secrets, as did the wisps of musky need tickling his nostrils and bringing fire to his blood.
One single inhale was enough to wash away the stupor permeating his body. To stir his heart into a gleeful flutter, filling his hide with prickling excitement of an instinctual nature.
In response to the awakening of his senses, Truffles tucked his knees closer to his chest, keeping his breaths shallow over the pounding predicament throbbing in his chest. What was he to do? How could he slink away without offending his host?
He had to find a way, for the longer he remained, the likelier Rowena was to turn her attention on him. More specifically, on what he offered. Smooth, veiny, lacking the threat of claws that could dispel her engulfing euphoria at any given time, his member accomplished everything that her fingers posed difficulties with due to their furred, more rigid nature.
Assuming he could hold his seed back long enough for her to revel in all those benefits...
While his breaths grew heavy with the weight of nervous desperation, Rowena's turned shallower, as subtle as the silky movements of her rocking body. Though he turned his head just enough to peer with the corner of an eye, Truffles witnessed that graceful display of female majesty, alluring in its simplicity, arousing in its honesty. She kept the pleasure clear on her slackening muzzle, lips tugged back by a guilty smile. The wagging of her tail helped spread the waft of pheromones creeping through the narrow gap of her engorged vulva, so carefully cradled between the V-shape formed by the fingers of her right hand. That enabled her left index finger to caress its center ever so gently, the tantalizing glide of a fingerpad arching her back and tensing the claws of her paws in a most erotic display.
"Ahh..." her body was quick to lurch flat on its back, knees drawing in an upward position as her efforts doubled. Under the entrancing flicker of her eyelids, the wolfess worked her cookie into a quivering spectacle of pent-up lust. She kept herself on the brink, retreating whenever the pulses grew too dire, the outcome evident in the sudden stiffening of her floppy ears or the loosening clasp of her fingers meant to trap her vulva in a prison of stimulating tightness.
"Mmmm....ahh....mmmmm!"
How could he rest like that, next to a moaning wolfess whose entrancing song mingled with the wet squelching of her soggy vulva? Truffles' fur felt flame, awash with dizzying self-consciousness at how quick his member was to respond to that beckoning call. Throb by eager throb, his cock pushed its way halfway out his sheath, the knot ripe and tense and far too eager to be clutched, even through the protection of his fur-lined sheath.
"Awwh...." The rocking of Rowena's body, similar to the ebb and flow of the ocean's waves, carried her on the side facing Truffles. Lust-filled eyes met his anxious ones, the colors dim in the scarce light but for the spark they held.
"You're still up," she tried to keep her tone subdued even as her fingers continued to flick her generously-sized cookie. "In more ways than one."
"I...it's a little hard to... with you..."
Truffles swallowed his words once the wolfess shifted on top of him in a dazzling display of agility, dripping her moderately thick honey over his twitching shaft. "You're quite hard alright," her hand pumped up and down along his length, blinding him to the salaciousness of her grin as his eyelids snapped shut over his eyes to withstand that tormenting pleasure. That...that felt so good! Far better than anything his hand accomplished! Warmth oozed from her textured pads, so much more arousing than the smoothness of human hands! With every motion, Rowena pulled his rebellious sheath further and further down, exposing as much of his fully erect cock as she could without popping his knot out.
"Ever had your cock sucked before? Doesn't smell like it."
Truffles' hands rushed to grab a hold of her arms, only to meet the thicker fur of her thighs instead. What he believed to be Rowena simply traveling a little lower down his body so that she could meet his member eye-to-eye, as indicated by the groaning of the bed's springs, turned out to be something far more overwhelming. The next time he opened his eyes, he saw not the ceiling any longer. Her pussy, towering a few inches above his flared nostrils, filled his entire vision, a thin rope of arousal rolling down its pointy end to kiss the downy fur of his throat.
"Don't act so coy," Rowena pushed her hips back to bring the pungent musk of her aroused sex so close to his muzzle that Truffles coughed and squirmed as he breathed it in, dazed by its addictive spice. "That's how your kind used to begin their courtship rituals until a few centuries ago, through mutual exchange of scent and taste."
Truffles' heart lurched into his throat, his gaze flickering from the shock of having a needy canine vulva smear its juices over his hungry nostrils. Melodious giggle flitted past her snarling fangs as he snorted and fidgeted, unaccustomed to the intake of such potent aroma with little to no previous preparation.
"You can put it in your mouth, lick it, or even settle for sniffing it if you don't have faith in your shuddering jaws. Whatever helps make things exciting for you."
"A--aaaaaaaaah!" Truffles sank his claws into the sturdy muscles of her thighs, thoroughly shocked by the warmth of her tongue coiled around his cock.
"Ahh..aaaaaaaaaah!"
A second--no, less than that. A fraction of one. That was how long his cock resisted when cradled within the velvet embrace of her tongue, surrounded by omnipresent wetness. Having never received such exotic attentions, Truffles' cock instantly gave in, seeding Rowena's mouth with pelting droplets of weaker, aqueous seed. Unlike humans who ejaculated their load in a matter of seconds, Truffles often needed several minutes to fully unload. The current state in which he found himself, hugging Rowena's hips with his coal-black nose pressed against her vulva, could be compared to the pounding rush prior to a human's climax, only twice more intense. He could feel every spurt rush past his tense tip, their erratic flow encouraged by the bobbing of Rowena's mouth. By her throaty moans wishing for more while she glared at him from the corner of an eye.
She helped motivate him to grant her more of his juice by rubbing her pulsing spade up and down his nose, wriggling her rump a little to seemingly masturbate against the fine texture of his twitching nostrils.
The salacious click of her tongue put an end to the paralyzing pleasure holding Truffles captive. With his cock still spurting, he tossed the pillow aside to create more room for his fleeing body, backed against the proverbial corner.
"Don't be a prude," Rowena's lithe form turned with utmost grace, her resolute gaze meeting his half-closed, panic-stricken one. "You know I can't get pregnant."
"But what if--" he tried to argue, only for fight to flee voice and limbs both as the wolfess grabbed him by his sheathed knot to direct his spurting cock straight to her sex.
"Guess we'll...ahh...find ouhhh. Oh yeah, that's...that's the stuff..."
With every fluid rocking of her body, Rowena's distended cookie rolled back more and more of Truffles' persistent sheathe, exposing a veiny inch of his knot to the caress of her smooth, squelching flesh. He should have looked up; at the gorgeous picture of the moaning wolfess holding a dominant hand over his chest while riding his lap. The other flicked the pestering locks of blond mane from her face ever so casually, her vigorous movements seemingly unaffected by what happened downstairs.
Compared to her cool demeanor, Truffles could barely keep his soul inside his body. Every one of his cries faded into her louder moans. Whenever he reached out to hold her, she pushed him in deeper into her taut, clenching canal, forcing increasingly stronger spurts of noticeably thicker seed.
"Mmm, you're...so...passive," she leaned forward to dart her tongue across his limp, huffing muzzle. "It's as if...you're cumming inside a pussy...for the first...ahhh..time..."
That's because he was! The tightness of her vagina fit perfectly around him in spite of her larger size, gripping and kneading at him through suckling motions meant to stir the flow of his seed. It took everything he had just to remember to breathe, for it was all too easy to lose himself into the rhythm of her swaying body. To drift with the current of sense-addling euphoria that robbed him of thought, of air, of seed.
"Would you...mmm...like to find out mrrrh...how it is to knot a female?"
Truffles tried to fight through the haze of pleasure, reaching forth with pleading, uncoordinated arms to try and impart the last vestige of logic left within him.
Rowena proved faster. All it took was an insistent push down on his tight sheathe to expose his knot to the fiery kiss of her spade, and a mighty shove heralded by a wet PLOP for Truffles to see nothing but stars.
"Khh...khhhhr!" His last remnants of strength carried him forward. Face planted intimately against the downy fur of her neck, the pent-up male loosed his thickest, richest seed inside the sweltering sanctuary of her sex, goaded by the rapid splashes of female ejaculate. Whereas she rode him like a prized buck just moments ago, Rowena stilled in his embrace. Burly arms wrapped around him protectively, locking him against her body just as her powerful nether muscles secured him within the depths of her body, milking his lances of splashing seed one throb and shudder at a time.
"You shoot so hard. So much," her lips nibbled affectionately on his ear over her subdued growl of intimate satisfaction. "You needed this far more than I did."
He did. By all the saints in all the heavens, nothing came close to this religious experience. Ejaculating inside Rowena stirred a roiling inferno inside him, pushing him to give her his all. The tie around his knot applied tight, blissful pressure, providing the perfect amount of mind-reeling stimulation. The rest of her canal suckled on his cock at a lesser intensity than one of those vibrating masturbators, aware that too intense a rhythm caused a male canine to completely blank out. It was as if her body knew what he enjoyed inside and out, treating him to the silky massage he had missed out on all along.
He didn't know how long it lasted; whether he had spent a minute or an eternity sharing Rowena's embrace. But in the end, it was his fatigued groan that separated the two at the top, yet not at the waist.
"I'm not finished with you," Rowena's grip strengthened around him to hold him in place as the world spun around them. A faint gasp fled Truffles once he found himself on top of her, splayed atop the best bed he could have asked for.
"Mrrrr, don't pull out," she cooed while her fingers ran through his mane, subtle as the velvet feel of her pads. "You'll just wet our bed."
A moist, warm patch already formed under their groin from where their joint fluids began to pool, its slickness hugging his balls in the strangest and erotic of ways. It should have troubled him, to know--to feel it against his sack--that he ejaculated inside Rowena with little to no heed as to what his recklessness might spawn, but the strokes of her hands mellowed him down, and the persistent squeezes of her nether muscles did the rest.
She wanted him. Craved for him more than any human ever did. How could something wrong feel so right, so intimate, so...lovely?
***The End***
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