Night of the Black Wolf

My powerful long stride demands respect of those around me, claws flexing dangerously against the dried earth with each footfall, every Lyco in either human or wolf form straightens in my presence. Jet black fur shifts and catches the light as I turn my head to appraise the warriors of my spices, assigned to me for my own protection. Never before have they been rendered so redundant but their presence is a comfort non the less.

 

On the far eastern reaches of the village a small wooden circular structure stands as my destination. The tiny amphitheatre seats no more than fifty grown men but is ample enough for it's needs at present. The captain of my personal guard less than a quarter candle mark ago informed me of an interesting development down at the house of entertainment and I have never been one to shy away from something to intriguing.

 

My long stride swallows up the distance without effort and soon the pads of my paws touch the rough sand. Excitement filling me with every step. My brother Fenris, stands tall in his human form arms spread wide in greeting to his kin. His silver hair a direct contrast to his black leather breeches, yet both catch the sunlight, captivating the audience that has gathered, so they hang dutifully on his every word.

 

The speech he gives is of little interest to me. The small red headed beauty cowering at his feet, her hands bound behind her and a wad of fabric pushed deep into her throat, tied in place to keep it stable is my only focus. Her long gown is torn, smudged with both dirt and blood, both scents stinging my nose, to push at the throbbing arousal beneath my swishing tail.

 

Her bright blue eyes meet my gold gaze and the lips around my muzzle lift in a terrifying grin. Reflexively she shifts backwards, pulling at her bonds and the sent of her fear intensifies tenfold. My ears pitch forward, straining to hear the muffled protests she makes from behind her rudimentary gag.

 

My head cocks to the side in silent wonderment. Here, kneeling before me is Christina, second in line to the human thrown. I would not have believed a human could hold such beauty if I had not cast upon it with my own eyes. Falling into a predatory gate I slowly circle the cowering woman, watching her eyes as they follow me around as far as her neck muscles will allow.

 

My brother, falls to silence and I feel his gaze upon me., forcing me to remove my own from the wonder at his feet. “You may not have her, Sister.” He attempts to book a tone that will halt all argument.

 

Anyone would think he had forgotten whom it was he was addressing. In three long strides I stand before him on two human legs. My naked skin no new site to those around us, the race that we are demands that we must take such liberties with modesty. “Dear brother.” My hand lands on his bare chest to pacify him. Being next in line to the thrown he often gets his own way and will often stamp his feel like a spoiled child when I disagree with him. “Do you not have enough toys of your own.” Upon hearing the word 'toy' the bound captive at our feet makes a loud useless protest, which both of us ignore. “Will you not allow your sister just this one?”

 

“My dearest Sarenthia. You know of who sits at your feet?”

 

“You ask as though I bask in ignorance.” I turn from him, letting my fingers run through the matted red hair just to feel her quiver beneath my touch. “Yet it is why I ask for this one.”

 

His lip lifts and the low rubble of a growl emits from deep in his chest. “And why would that be?”

 

Having walked around the cowering woman I bend my knees to squat behind her, my fingers bunching harshly in her scarlet locks and yank downwards, pulling her gaze up to the sky and relishing the squeal of pain it provokes. “This human...” I begin captivated by a singe tear leaking from her corner of her eye. “This woman commands as much power and respect as I. And you would deny me the pleasure of holding her down beneath me.” She blinks and that single tear glides down her porcelain skin.

 

He clears his throat and stands in thought for a moment. We both know he cannot look weak in front of his subjects, but my brother is family and would thus bestow upon me what ever I would wish for. Right at this moment I crave the feel of this woman’s flesh under my hands.

 

Bending his knees, he lowers himself to my level, catching my eye and distracting me from that delicious looking tear. “Would this make you happy?”

“Ecstatic.” I reply, finally giving into the temptation I tug on her hair pulling her flush against my chest and lean down to run my tongue along the track that salty drop left behind. She tenses drastically in my grasp and her eyes close tightly against the soft ministration.

 

Fenris bows his head in silent consent, then his eyes meet my captive as she tries to pitch forward and away from my grasp. The feral grin that pulls across his face is less than comforting to her and the tears begin to fall with abandon. “You should not struggle so.” His icy blue eyes meet mine. “You're in much softer hands now.” Without any further speech he stands, turning on the sandy floor and leaves through the side entrance.

 

“Alone at last.” I whisper against the shell of her ear just as the cheers of every man and woman in attendance fills the amphitheatre. “Almost anyway.” She begins to struggle with abandon and my fingers leave her soft hair to press against her exposed throat, pulling her more tightly against me. “Now, now...” My voice holds the presence of a growl as I speak. I am unused to being denied in such a way. “You're struggles are useless to both of us, so why waste the energy?” I can feel her hands pulling at the ropes that bind her against my belly. Oh to release those hands and feels their warmth against my skin, but not on this occasion.

 

I reach up to stroke my fingers against her cheek. Only mildly irritated when she filches from the caress. My dexterous fingers pull at the knot holding her gag in place and I let it fall upon her gown. The moment the tie is free she spits the waded fabric from her mouth in a decidedly unladylike manor. Immediately drawing breath to aid her hurried speech. “You don't have to do this.”

 

“Oh, but I was so looking forward to it.” I adjust my position, my chest pressing against the scratchy laces holding her dress against her bosom. I growl at the unnecessary barrier, keeping me from her skin and hold my free hand outstretched. It only takes a heartbeat for the hilt of a dagger to be presses against my palm.

 

“Please don't...” The rest of her plea is cut off as she cries out, my hand quickly moving from her throat back to her hair so I have better access to her garment.

 

Pushing her away from my chest and the cold feel of sharpened steal instantly halts her struggle. Her body trembles as I slice through the confounded laces following the line all the way down the the tip of her rump. I am then faced with the dilemma of where to cut next. The garment covers her so completely that it leaves me bewildered, why do humans insist on covering up such supple flesh? Flexing the muscles in my thighs I stand from my crouch. Letting her fall backwards and I make my way to her front. With no less than five cuts I have the dress pulled from her body, only to be met with flaming petticoats. My hand bunches in her undergarment and pulls her face mere inches from mine. “Why so much fabric?” I ask genuinely curious as to the reason.

 

Even though her voice shakes in fear and the tears have not ceased roiling down her cheek the smile pulled across her face is almost mocking. “Sorry to inconvenience you.”

 

Every muscles within me freezes, trying very hard to see a context where such a statement could not considered be a jeering taunt. The back of my hand striking her cheek must come as a surprise judging by the look on her face as she gazes back up at me from her spiralled position on the ground. Everyone around us freezes in place and every noise drops away so only the gentle breeze can be heard.

 

Amongst the deafening silence I kneel. Bunching my hand in the maddening undergarments a second time and haul her up to my eye level. Restraining my raging temper with all of my might. “Are you brave, or mealy foolish. I am undecided.” Cocking my head to the side I grit my teeth to show my displeasure.

 

She sniffs back her tears, brining forth courage I did not think she possessed. “You tie me down and strip me. Then expect me not to struggle. Who do you suppose is the fool?”

 

I take a moment to conciser her question, noting that she flinches ever so slight having expected to prod at my temper. “You think me a fool?” Strangely such a thought does not ignite a fire of rage within me, simply makes me curious.

 

“I think you're a sadist.”

 

I lean my head back and laugh out loud, then have to raise my voice over the cheering crowd. “A single slap and you come to this conclusion?” Her lips draw into a thin line, stubbornly remaining silent. No matter, we shall have her mouth open in due course. The sharp double edged blade touches her skin and the only movement she makes is to swallow audibly. Slowly I draw it along her skin, beneath her white, confining undergarments. The steal touching skin but only tearing fabric and my fierce gaze refuses to leave her blue orbs. As the cold metal comes between her breasts she ceases to even breath.

 

A moment later the garment falls uselessly to the side and I tear my gaze away to faze upon the bared flesh. The grin pulled across my features bears my teeth with it's intensity. “Very nice.” She begins to shiver under my scolding gaze and my eyes meet hers for a long moment. “Very nice indeed.”

 

Standing from her I leave her naked flesh on show for the crowd around is. Taking the time to slice the remaining material from her body and circling her once in silent appraisal. How do I want her? The simple answer is in every way I can imagine. Yet I have little time to attend to all of my desires I must chose one. Silently she watches as I circle coming to my decision. Slowly I approach from behind, so she knows of my presence but is unable to see. Those around us deserve a show and who am I to disappoint my subjects?

 

Leaving her form completely on show I slide my hands along her belly. “Please.” She says in a desperate voice.

 

I lift a single eyebrow. Honestly I had thought we were passes all of the futile begging. “Please what?” One of my arms encircle her waist pulling her more tightly against me. The other travels north, along the contours of her body to grasp at a welcoming breast.

 

“Don't do this.” it would appear that the tears have made a return, her courage abandoning her under my soft touch. “Let me go.”

 

A thumb and forefinger tighten around hardened flesh at the peak of her breast. And the distinct sent of her arousal assaults my nostrils. My lips press against the shell of her ear so she can feel my breath against her as I speak. “When you look almost good enough to eat?” Experimentally I twist the hardened nub in my grip and even though she tries to muffle it I still hear her gasp of pleasurable surprise. Apparently this will not be so difficult after all. “Such a thing would be sacrilege.”

 

Without giving her any warning my arm around her torso drops and my palm closes over the apex of her thighs lifting her, pulling her hips over my knees so her thighs rest flush against mine. I am unsuppressed to find my fingers damp with her excitement but am pleasantly shocked to find it coating my digits almost instantly.

 

“You call me a sadist.” I alter to position of my wrist pushing two fingers inside of her, she tenses against my chest her muscles shuddering with the onslaught of sensation, the tiny cry far from painful. “Does this make you a masochist?” She does not have the presence of mind to answer me and in all honesty I had not expected her to. The incoherent cry of pleasure enough to pacify me. As by fingers extract from her depths her hips shift, chasing them in their retreat, only to surge forwards as I bury them inside of her once more. With the princess of the Human race both literally and figuratively in the palm of my hand I feel myself grin, relishing in the power this simple act must bestow upon me.

 

Changing the position of my elbow affords me the opportunity to press the pad of my thumb against the small bundle of nerves at the top of her entrance and when I do the loud shout can be heard over the roaring crowd, which only makes them more rumbustious in their encouragement.

 

The heightening in volume gives me an idea and I remove my fingers from her peaked nipple to close them around her throat. Lifting her head with and thumb and forefinger against her jaw,. “Open your eyes.” I command, pushing more vigorously inside of her when she refuses to obey. My only response is a serge of her hips. “Look upon them all or I swear I will stop.” The treat is enough and after a shaky breath she obeys my command. “Watch them.” She cries out again as I move the pad if my thumb to a more stimulating position. “Watch them, watching you.”

 

“I can't.” She tries to speak over her mounting ecstasy.

 

Twisting my arm I throw my fingers inside of her with a bruising ferocity, relishing at her enjoyment of the action. My voice holds a growl as I press it against her ear. “You will.”

 

Her eyes remain open, the treat of my attentions halting their so abruptly, enough to stamp out her inhibitions of this action. With a further three strokes she goes ridged in my arms, her inner walls clamping down on my conquering digits and she screams her release to the world.

 

She goes lax in my embrace and after removing myself from her depths I let her fall to the side in a pile of quaking muscles and shaking limbs. With a smirk at my own achievement I rise to my feet, greeted by the chorus of cheers from all around me.

 

I turn my head to meet my brothers grin, another woman much darker of skin is lead out, a metal colour closed around her neck and she struggles against the chocking hold. “Well done my sister.” He looks past me as he speaks. Watching the fallen princess as she closes her legs in a vain attempt to claw back some of her dignity, he has a predatory look upon his face as he licks his lips.

 

That will not do, such a small taste of the red headed royalty is by no means enough to quench my thirst of her. “I want this one.” I say. Watching as his face falls.

 

“You have had this one.” He argues, and once again we must dance this dance.

 

“Not nearly enough.” I say, flashing my wolfish eyes in his direction. “Besides.” With a switching in my gaze I draw his attention to the tan skinned female he as had brought with him as she is forced to her knees and it takes three large men to hold her in the position. “It appears you have enough to contend with.”

 

“Yes. They call her Aryana. I think I will enjoy breaking such a wild thing.”

 

“Indeed brother. Now simply hand me this placid creature and I will leave you to your fun.”

 

Instantly he is suspicious as all men tend to be when they are handed what they want. “Is she that good?”

 

“She makes such interesting noises.” I comment, my eyes coming to rest on the object of our conversation.

 

He takes a long breath and stokes his chin. “Very well. If it is what my sister desires.”

 

“Very much so.”

 

“Then take her and leave.” He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture and turns from me, heading in the direction of his new pray.

 

Happy with my new possession I kneel at her side threading my hand into her hair and drawing her gaze to mind. “You will come with me.”

 

She body shakes and I cannot decide it if is with anticipation or fear. “What will you do with me?”

 

“Much more of the same.” My voice takes on a commanding growl as I tug at her, wanting her in my bed chamber faster than is physically possible. “Now stand.”