FSE

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The story was moving Hazel forward. Feet moved unconsciously toward the front door of her grandmother's cottage and her hand raised to knock. Forcing herself to stop moving, her wide eyes danced around the property taking in the small details.

The hinges on the front door are bent … but there are no claw marks.

The garden looks recently tilled but not completely torn-up.

The smells of cooking and fireplace are completely absent.

The little details were not adding up. Hazel knew the wolf was already in there, and she knew her Granny was not alive inside of the house. This did not necessarily mean she was dead, though, and this also did not mean the wolves had killed her. Letting go of her resistance, she allowed her knuckles to fall upon the wood of the front door.

Rat-a-tat-tat

“Who's there?" answered a voice that was definitely not Granny.

Now I get to find out which tale I've managed to tell.

“It's Little Red Riding Hood and I've brought you some treats!"

“Pull the bobbin and the latch will go up," answered the wolf.

Hazel obeyed, pulling up the bobbin so that door would open. The darkness beyond was something her Granny would never allow. The fire had burned all the way to smoldering coals and rags had been put over the windows. Little bits of daylight allowed Hazel to see the outline of furniture but some of it had been knocked around a bit. The table had been moved all the way to one side of the room and a chair lay in pieces on the floor. The front door had damage on the inside only … which meant no one had broken into the place.

“Put the treats in the pantry, child," the wolf said in a bad imitation of her granny.

The basket went into the pantry. There was no food left inside. A quick glance around said all of the food had been eaten and the normally well-organized kitchen had been taken apart and then put back in the wrong order. Whatever they had been looking for had not been found. Fortunately, there was no suspicious meat laid out nor were there the tell-tale stains of dried blood. Whichever version of the tale she was in, it was not the one where Red was tricked into eating a bit of her grandmother's remains.

“Take off your clothes, my child, and climb into bed with me."

Oh … I'm in THAT version of the tale.

The line should not have surprised Hazel, but it did. Though the wolf's words were right out of the story, it was one of the stranger ones that was typically not told in polite company.

Of course, I'm anything but polite company … and I was really hoping to fuck a Big Bad Wolf before this adventure was over. Though sex isn't the only possible outcome to this next step. Stripping down to my skin makes me vulnerable. Whichever way he plans to devour me, naked girl-flesh is always a treat.

Hazel's eyes went wide as her hands began loosening the ties upon her bodice without her telling them to act. The mind began to race along the stories about this scenario. None of them allowed her to be in control of anything, but words held power in these stories and she felt if she began speaking, she could find the right words.

Keeping her back to the bed, Hazel let the outer layer of clothing fall to the floor. Staring at the empty pantry, she began to consider the things she had brought with her.

If I grab the silver or the wolfsbane, I can attack the damn beast while he's in Granny's bed! Of course, that would break the spell … and I would not gain the information I need. No … there's only one path here that leads to true victory.

Slack around her dress grew as the upper garment joined the bodice upon the floor. Bare nipples grew hard in the cool air, begging to be pinched. Running her hands up and down her exposed frame stimulated the nerves and brought a touch of sexual pleasure into her blood. This seemed to kick her brain back into motion and allowed her to find the ideas she had been searching for.

A strip tease will allow me to get close and put ideas into his head. That's it … get him thinking about sex before I get close enough to eat.

“Poor Granny, your voice is so deep," Hazel said, as she untied her skirt and bent over as she dragged it to the floor.

“I'm sick with a little cold, dear child," the wolf said, emitting some fake coughs that fooled no one.

Stockings and bloomers were the final bits of material hiding her from the wolf's lecherous gaze. Putting one leg up on the remaining chair, Hazel began to slowly slide it down, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Slowly … sensually … every protective garment was lowered to the floor until Hazel stood bare before to the predator in the room.

It was difficult to turn her head to face him. Doing so did not make things any easier for her as the look of the wolf-man wearing the type of nightgown and bonnet that her granny never wore, was more than a little comical. It took some effort to turn her wide-eyed terror into a hungry sensuous gaze but the wolf's toothy grin said she was having an effect on him.

Unfortunately, the two types of “yum" are too similar. That hungry look is common in both cases. I might not know which one he's feeling but I have to act as if it's right one. Next, I need to find the right words. The words will make me live or die.

“Oh, Granny, how hairy you are!" Hazel exclaimed without meaning to.

“The better to keep you warm, my child," the wolf said with a knowing grin.

“Oh, Granny, what big shoulders you have!" Hazel said as the story forced her to step closer.

“The better to carry firewood with, my child," the wolf replied.

“Oh, Granny, what big eyes you have!"

“The better to see you with, my dear," the wolf said as his amber eyes blazed like the fire of two lanterns in the dark.

Closer … closer … the power of the story pulled her along, dragging her feet forward as she grew close enough for the wolf to get her in a lunge. If she did not take control now, she would be clawed to pieces and eaten in a bad way.

“And Granny … w-what big … e-ears you have."

“The better to hear you with, my dear," the wolf said easily, his gaze becoming more intense as they both knew that the next line would spring him into action.

“And … and Granny … w-w-what … w-w-w-what …" Hazel clenched her teeth together so that she would not say the words. She knew the next sentence was the last one. When she mentioned his teeth, he would come at her and then it would all be over. “Big …" she said, still fighting her fate. “Big …" it happened again. The words were pushing against her muscles, causing her to sweat and she strained against the monster's will. Then an idea popped into her mind and she decided to go for it.

“COCK!" Hazel shouted, focusing her intent on the bulge that was pressing against the comforter. “What a big cock you have!"

The wolf-in-Granny's-clothing gasped as if struck in the gut. Snarls and mutters emitted from the beast as he shifted and twitched. Arching his back and thrusting his hips into the air, the wolf-man cried out, tearing at the crotch of his clothing until something large and red erupted from his sheath and then flopped onto his stomach.

After the theatrics ended, the wolf lay there, gasping for breath and rolling his eyes in bewilderment. Hazel knew this moment was not going to last long but she could feel the shift in the story. The idea that had been pouring into her brain made her grin like the wolf had when she entered.

Crawling onto the bed on her hands and knees, she positioned herself over the massive lupine erection. Her tongue lolled out much longer than it should have and she allowed it to glide along the massive salty mass. The wolf tensed but did not pull away. Drawing back and repositioning, Hazel licked the roof of her mouth to generate more saliva, and then dragged her tongue along his length.

The taste was intense and his scent was invasive … but she could not deny that she loved every inch of it. Every lick increased her arousal and soon she had taken him in both hands and was rubbing all of him vigorously. Her mouth moved to the tip of his spear and she took as much as she could into her tiny mouth. Licking and sucking produced wet hungry sounds but still the wolf did not resist.

Deep and excited breathing began rising out of the wolf's chest but when his hips bucked up at her, Hazel knew she was winning the battle. Hands that should have grabbed at her remained pressed at his side. From what she had observed, the wolf should have leapt up, grabbed the back of her head, and shoved his erection out through the back of her skull. She should be mauled. She should be dead. He should be defiling her corpse and then eating her whole. Instead, he appeared to be pinned in place, writhing and moaning like a terrified teenage boy of little to no sexual experience.

Several delightful minutes of Hazel's deepest fantasies passed by. Ever since she started feeling twinges of lust in her guts, she wanted a wolf-man inside of her. Now she was wrapping her lips around the long red shaft of just such a creature. Every flavor and scent granted her satisfaction and she longed to taste the rest of him.

The knowledge of every other boy she had been with proved true even with this beast, but this one was so much larger than they had been. Still … Hazel had never met a boy who would do absolutely anything for the chance of her lips around his cock. Now that she was here, muscle memory told her how to move and what to listen for.

Soon, she could feel the familiar patterns of muscle and breath that warned of his imminent eruption. Knowing the power of such seed, Hazel repositioned herself once more, sealed her lips around the red tip, and pressed him past her gag-reflex. Grabbing his knot with both hands, she squeezed both sides and felt an instant response.

The wolf thrust up at her in a growling howl of ecstatic release. Super-heated ejaculate geysered forth. Swallowing the hefty load would not have been possible but she had already opened her throat and pushed his meaty mess past her mouth. Bursts of milky cream were flooding directly into her stomach. Pressure built as he continued to burst forth and still Hazel could not breathe. This terrible pressure burned through her lungs, dizzied her head, and caused her stomach to bulge.

Then, in a moment where she thought she would either orgasm or burst open, two massive hands palmed Hazel's face and she was pushed back. A loud pop filled her ears and it was only the powerful hands that stopped her from tumbling backwards off of the bed and onto the floor. Delicate care set her on her side and his warm and wet tongue made several loving swipes over her face.

“What do you think you're doing?" growled the wolf who was caring for her. “You're not supposed to pin me down with the story! I'm supposed to pin you!"

Grabbing his still twitching mass, the wolf-man grabbed the girl's legs and spread her wide. He shoved himself between her legs, but he did not make it inside. Muscles clenched and he was unable to get inside of her. Frustration shown on his face as he thrust again … and again. Every time he grew more outraged, snarling and drooling until he yelled, “Little girl, little girl, LET-ME-IN!"

“Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin," Hazel said easily, grinning with manic lunacy as the wolf tried to figure out how to stuff her.

“Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!" he roared, leaning back and masturbating himself as hard as he could.

“No box of straw or twigs or sticks, this here pussy's made of sunbaked bricks!" Hazel was shouting the words of the story-spell and a surge of potent magic soon covered her skin. Though the wolf raged and flailed, no tooth, claw, or wild red prick could pierce any part of her. After several seconds of effort, the wolf paused to pant and stare at her. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and the girl could not help herself.

“You're going to need a lot more puff and I don't think you have enough!"

A deafening roar filled the cottage as the wolf surged forward. Massive teeth closed around Hazel's throat and though he bit hard, he could not break her skin. Claws flailed uselessly against soft girl-parts. Then, with a roar of maddened rage, he grabbed Hazel by the throat, ran across the whole room, and smashed her through the back wall.

The world got a little confusing as Hazel tumbled along the ground. Before she could right herself, the wolf pounced, picked her up and slammed her against a large tree.

“BREAK BITCH!" the wolf shouted, squeezing her little neck as hard as he could.

Hazel swiped one open palm across the wolf's nose and he yipped in pain. Dropping her to the ground, he stumbled back and fell onto his rump. “Bad dog!" Hazel scolded, stepping forward and slapping him once more. This time, the yip was even more dog-like and the wolf shuffled away from her, holding his large snout with his massive paw-hands.

“How is this possible?" the wolf asked as he whimpered. “Why aren't you dead and broken?"

“Sit!" Hazel shouted in a commanding tone. The wolf had just gotten his feet under him when Hazel shouted her order and he fell immediately onto his bottom once more. Power crackled all around them as bits of blue lightning danced along the surface of her skin. When she opened her mouth once more, the words flowed with relative ease.

“I know two tales where the wolf falls down,

Into some water where he does drown!

Your very soul, I do seduce,

Now open your maw, and drink my juice!"

Feeling him submit to her demands was better than most of the orgasms she had achieved in her life. No further coaxing was needed as the panting wolf-man lay in prone submission. His mouth opened wide and Hazel straddled him, sitting in what was effectively a bear-trap. When his open mouth clamped down on the skin around her sex, Hazel made a sharp little gasp. Once again, she remained unharmed.

“You've been a bad boy," she teased as she rocked her hips forward and back. “Lick your matron. Lick me!"

The words filtered into his brain and the warm slick tongue began lapping at her private space. Shivers of delight coursed back up her spine and she made pleased sounds.

“Yes!" she cried out, as uncontrollable excitement filled every inch of her body. “Right there! Oh … yes! Oh … hoh … OH GODS!"

This orgasm was not the gentle little shivers from earlier. This peek fired sensation through to the tips of her toes. There was no doubt that she was squirting into his throat and she heard him swallowing audibly.

Once the last echoes of her scream faded from the air, she braced herself against his massive canines and pushed herself up onto trembling feet. Sliding her drenched pink folds along his snout, the wolf closed his muzzle and she managed to wiggle herself into sitting back on his chest. Though she was desperately tired and gasping for breath, she reached around to his oversized head so that she could complete the ritual.

“Good boy," she cooed, scratching his head until his tail began to wag. “Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

“I'm a good boy," the wolf said … and thus it was so.