Cry Wolf

Summary: Piers, the adopted son of the village shephard, desparately wishes for the village "princess" to notice him, so he decides to play the hero in saving the town from the hungry wolf. But no one has seen the wolf since before he was adopted. However, with a little ingenuity, he attempts to trick the villagers. He is soon found out, and after several attempts, they no longer believe him. But when the wolf comes down for real, lone little Piers is left to defend the flock. Too bad for Piers, but it's not the sheep the big bad wolf is after.

Rating: It's sex. Kinda PWP, but not.

Pairing(s): Piers x "Shadow-man"/Wolf

Feedback: Sure, why not?

Characters: Piers, "Shadow-man"

Author’s notes: Eh, I wanted to try submitting this to get a contract with a pay site. But, meh, I don't know how these things work, and since it's been a while since I sent the email, I thought I might as well post this. It's the first bit of sex I've written in a VERY long time.

Yes, it is based on the story of the boy who cried wolf. You can turn just about anything into a yaoi story, ya know.

While this is a oneshot, there is a possibility of it being continued. Who knows for sure what I'll wind up doing? *shrugs* Enjoy.


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His breath came fast and hard, the gasps stinging sharply again the bottom of his ribs. "Help!" He cried, the cry barely audible from the lack of precious breath. Crashing through the forest underbrush on thin, spindly legs, he would have been ashamed to have been making so much noise, but that would be when he wasn't being chased down by a monstrously huge, ravenous wolf with fur the color of midnight. Oh why, oh why, oh why! had he used up all his chances to alert the villagers, only to have this great beast run him down when they knew not to answer his call?

"Please, somebody!" He gasped, not bothering to hide a sob as he stepped on something sharp, whatever it was tearing easily through the worn underside of his sheepskin boots. Piers ran on, unmindful of the sharp sting in his foot and ignoring the dull throb of the stitch in his side, desperate to be away from the crashing footsteps of the lumbering beast behind him. "Anybody!"

He had thought it was innocent enough, calling his fellow villagers to the edge of the forest where his adopted father's sheep were normally found to be grazing. He had thought it innocent enough, to pretend to use his slingshot to knock down the fake wolf he had propped up on the cliff overlooking the flock of sheep. It had all been to impress the village 'princess,' that beautiful young maiden with eyes of sky blue and hair of gold. She would never have paid attention to him otherwise; he was that awkward, gangly shepherd's adopted son, with straggly coal black hair and eyes, who towered over even the tallest of the grown village men. While his face was normally nothing to scoff at, the constant smudges of dirt and his wind-roughened cheeks made her turn her nose up at him whenever he attempted to speak to her. The princess knew that she was the most desirable of the village maidens, knew that she could have her selection of the young men. So why would she pick the shepherd's adopted boy, who was not even going to inherit the flock when his father passed away?

His foot caught on an outstretched root, tripping him, and he flew through the air for what seemed like minutes. Landing heavily on the dirt floor, he winced and sobbed as his arm twisted painfully beneath his stomach, knocking the precious breath out of his chest.

For a moment, the forest was quiet, save for the gasps that escaped his mouth. But all too soon Piers heard the telltale growl of his pursuer: that damnable beast that had done it's utmost best to defame Piers in the eyes of his fellow villages, insisting on only coming out of hiding after they had turned their backs on him. While the beast hadn't made an appearance since before he had been found on the outskirts of the village, he had always thought that there would come a day when the beast would return. That had been the reason why he had been determined to impress the village princess, to show her just how clever and heroic he could be by slaying such an evil creature. But the creature had not appeared, even when Piers had shouted a challenge in the heart of the forest. That had been the sole purpose of the fake wolf he had made with his adopted father's old wolfskin pelt and a sawhorse borrowed from the carpenter.

He'd been found out...when he had placed the wolf substitute on the cliff, he could not have guessed that the weather would turn foul and windy, blowing over the fake just as he had swung his slingshot. But that hadn't been the worst. He had tried three times more, placing the fake wolf in various areas just far enough away to look like a wolf, but not enough that he couldn't hit it clearly. Each time, each damn time, the wind had blown over his creation, revealing his duplicity for all the village to see.

After that last time, his father had angrily sent him to the shearing shed. And that had been where the wolf had found him.

Piers had been awakened rudely in the night by a fierce howl just outside the door of the shed. Fearfully, he had huddled against the back of the shed, whimpering quietly to himself when the scratching at the door began. After a candle's mark, the sounds had stopped, and he had been sure the creature had wandered away in search of an easier meal. He had used that opportunity to quickly pull on his sheepskin boots, having slept in his clothes for warmth against the foul weather outside, and had burst out the door, desperate to reach the safety of his father's house.

The wolf had begun to stalk him after his father refused him entry.

"The wolf is out here, father!" Piers had begged, pounding on the door. "Please let me in! I beg of you!"

"No son of mine would ever make such a false claim after trying to trick the entire village," his father had groused through the door, the sound of the wooden bar clunking down into place punctuating his sentence. "Go back to the shed, Piers, and sleep on yer guilt."

"But it's true, father!" Piers had gasped, his back now to the door as he gazed wild-eyed at the lumbering creature that stalked him just scant yards away. "The beast stalks me!"

"And right he should, for all yer lies," his father had replied, his voice trailing away as he moved toward the interior of the house.

Piers had run then, pounding on whichever door he could reach while still remaining out of the great beast's lunging distance. Every single one of the doors remained closed to him, even that of the kindly old midwife that had nursed him before adopting him out to the shepherd. In desperation, he fled the village, skirting the fields. The beast, however, kept to one side of him, herding him back around and towards the forest. Without facing the beast directly, Piers had no choice but to enter the eerie, darkened forest.

He had forgotten how long he had run, gasping for breath and wishing desperately that he were somewhere else, somewhere safe. The time didn't matter, nor the distance. In the end, he had tripped and fallen, and the beast had found him.

"P-please," he gasped, sobbing, clinging to one last shred of hope that he would have a savior. "Help me..."

"Aww, poor, sweet little lamb," a dark, cruel voice crooned. Piers gasped louder, eyes wide as he searched out the source of the voice. He rolled on to his back, laying his arm carefully across his stomach, as it was still throbbing painfully from the impact of his fall. In the dim light of the moon shining through the branches of the overhanging trees, he could just barely make out the shadowy shape of a man right where the wolf had been. Had the man chased off the wolf? Or...was the man the wolf? Could this man be one of the rumored shapeshifters that hunted down and ate the humans that caught their fancy?

Piers shivered as the wild thoughts danced and whirled in his mind. He fought for some semblance of sanity, knowing that such a thought was only there because he had been chased here, by that great beast that had seemed smarter than any man he had known, knowing just where to heard the boy to lead him back to the forest, back to the familiar territory of the forest wolves.

"Are you...lost...little lamb?" The shadow-man chuckled, stalking forward in the dark. The boy could hardly move for fear of bringing the wrath of this shadow-man who could also be the wolf that had stalked him. The man reached him, kneeling down over the prone Piers, his knees resting on either side of the boy's hips. Almost tenderly, a long fingered hand reached out and caressed Piers's cheek. "Yes, it seems you are...lost," the man laughed, his voice throaty and deep. He reached up to toy with one of the charcoal curls sticking to the boy's forehead. Piers jerked back, eyes wide in the dark of the night.

"W-who are you?" He finally managed to gasp, lifting his injured arm as if he could fend off the noticeably larger man.

The shadow-man pulled back, lifting one great hand to capture both of Piers's wrists, pinning them above his head. Piers's breathing labored, his fear spiking at how vulnerable the position left him. "Does my name truly matter, little lamb?" He asked, laughing at the boy's attempts to wrest his hands away. The shadow-man increased his grip on the thin wrists, making the boy wince. "No matter; if I tell you my name, or not, I am still going to eat every last little morsel of you."

"N-no!" Piers gasped, his legs kicking up. The shadow-man grunted, his back arching at the pain, but he kept his grip. "Leave me be! Release me! Help!"

"No one is going to help you," the man snarled, rearing up to slap the boy across the cheek, hard. The sharp, angry pain halted Piers's words. "'Twas your own fault for crying wolf so many times that the villagers did not heed your words when you decided to at last tell the truth."

"H...how do...?"

"Little lamb, you should have already guessed by now," the man grinned toothily, the pale moonlight somehow glinting off the sharp teeth revealed. Piers bit back a gasp. "It is too late for regrets."

Without warning, the man pulled away, easily and swiftly turning Piers to lay on his stomach. A hand snaked down into his pants, tearing through the wool as if it were nothing. Within moments, Piers was lying half-naked on his stomach, the large shadow-man looming over his back. "Wha...what? Let me go!" He tried to screech, but the same hand that had ripped away his pants snuck its way to his mouth, shoving the first two digits in regardless of the gagging noises Piers made.

"Don't bite me," the shapeshifter warned. Piers groaned and whimpered around the fingers, his chin trembling as he resisted the urge to bite down on the invading digits. The slap to his face had hurt badly enough; but considering that this man was a shapeshifter, and the beast that had stalked him, he dared not test just how badly the shifter could injure him. "Good boy," the shadow-man crooned, lifting his saliva-slick fingers from the boy's mouth. "Just keep being that sweet, and I won't have to get violent..."

Slowly, ever so slowly, the shadow-man trailed his hand over Piers's rounded butt, digging between the cheeks to find the hidden portal. The boy whimpered, his toes digging into the soft leather soles of his sheepskin boots, his butt muscles clenching against the invading fingers. However, the shadow-man would not be deterred, and he speared one slick, wet finger through the clenching ring of muscle.

"Nnn!" Piers gasped, gritting his teeth against the intrusion. It felt strange, and a little gross, as the finger began to slide back and forth in his ass. "Nnn...stop, please," he begged softly, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "Please, I don't want this..."

"Hehehe," the shadow-man chuckled, adding another slick finger into the slowly widening hole. "Poor little lamb...you may not want this, but there is no way I will stop. Not with your delicious scent exuding in waves..." He buried his face in the crook of Piers's neck, inhaling deeply of the sweat and natural scent of the boy. "Awww, such a sweet, sweet scent...even should you escape me now, I would always find you by this scent..."

"Nnn," the boy whimpered, clenching his eyes shut as his hole slowly relaxed against the invading fingers. He didn't want this, couldn't want this, yet somehow, some way, tiny trickles of pleasure had begun to creep up his spine. He couldn't deny that the invasion of his bottom hole was, if only a tiny bit, pleasurable, but he would never say it out loud, not with this shadow-man, this shapeshifter, being the one to violate him. Even so, the tingles of pleasure detoured around to the front, pulsing faintly in his dormant cock. His mind rebelled, refusing to believe that he was getting hard from being invaded by a man, let alone a shapeshifting creature that just might slay him once they were done with...whatever the shadow-man had planned. Which, judging by the hardness pressed against the back of Piers's leg, would more than likely leave him limping, should he somehow survive.

"Ohhh-hoho! So, you are feeling it now, eh, my sweet little lamb?" The shadow-man chuckled, detecting the faint smell of arousal intertwining the boy's natural scent. He gave a sharp twist of his fingers as they were buried deep in the boys ass. Piers gasped, bucking up against the man behind him. The shadow-man just laughed a deep, throaty laugh, and ground back against the boy, pressing his arousal against the back of the boy's leg as he twisted his fingers again. Over and over again, Piers gave a sharp cry as the fingers twisted in his hole, the cries becoming more and more like cries of pleasure than cries of pain.

At last, the shadow-man pulled his fingers from the boy's ass, and he let out a small sigh of relief, whimpering against the pleasure that pulsed deep in his belly. His cock was pressed against the forest floor, trailing its juices wherever it just so happened to move. But Piers's relief was short lived, as the fingers were replaced by something much, much larger. It was the shadow-man's own arousal, which pulsed angrily at the widened entrance of the boy's hole. A whimper escaped his throat as the head of the shadow-man's cock pushed it's way past the initial ring of muscle. And though it was somewhat relaxed, the considerably larger organ still had difficulty making it's way through. Groaning in frustration, the shadow-man gave a quick snap of his hips, the head of his cock just barely managing to push past the tightening ring of muscle.

Again, Piers gasped in pain. "Nn!" Panting, he pulled at his wrists, which were still held captive in the shadow-man's solid grip. The shadow-man released his hands in favor of using both his hands to to grip the boy's hips, forcing him further onto the organ piercing his backside. "Mmmm," the boy groaned, biting his lip, hard. Blood trickled down his lip, the pain hardly registering against the pain in his arm and ass. However, the smell of the boy's blood caught at the shadow-man. He licked his lips, his inner predator rising at the scent of the sweet, sweet blood of this tender little lamb.

Finally, the shadow-man's organ sat fully within Piers's painfully-stretched hole. A dull, aching burn spread from where he was connected with the shapeshifter, traveling up and down his spine, intertwining with the residual pleasure from earlier. When the shadow-man gave an experimental push, Piers gasped, and not from pain. More followed, and each time the pain faded a little more, before long leaving nothing but the burning and the pleasure.

"Ahh," Piers gasped, shivering as the shadow-man began to moved his hips in earnest. Harder and faster, the pleasure spiking dangerously into Piers's groin, until a small point within him was smacked by the piercing organ. With that small point pressed, Piers gave a sharp cry, at last pushing back against the shadow-man's hips, if to just make that feeling last a tiny bit longer. After that, the shadow-man seemingly aimed for that tiny spot, adjusting his thrusts so that the tip of his organ would rub against it on slow thrusts, and ram hard against it on fast thrusts. It wasn't long until Piers rose up on his elbows and knees, pressing back against the man above him with each and every thrust.

However, in the back of his mind, the boy knew that what was happening was wrong, that the feelings the shadow-man was evoking within him were against the very laws of nature that his own conception had followed. How could a man feel such pleasure from being violated by another man? He wondered distantly, his uninjured hand trailing softly across his bared stomach and groin, finally curling delicately around his own organ, which wept with the pleasure running through Piers's mind and body. A few quick strokes, and Piers knew that if he weren't careful, he would reach the climax before the man dominating him. Instinctively, he resisted the urge to stroke himself, biting his lip as he groaned into the night air, gasping and moaning with the pleasure.

"Ah, my little lamb," the shadow-man groaned. "Such sweet music you make... Let us...reach completion together..." He groaned, his fingertips biting into Piers's hips as he snapped his hips harder and harder against the boy's ass, driving his organ increasingly faster into the sweet, slick, clenching hole.

"Ahh...ahh...please!" Piers gasped, trembling as he sought in vain to grind back against the shadow-man. His hand hovered over his own organ, his fingertips trembling.

Growling deep in his throat, the man released the boy's hips, his hands seeking out the boy's. One grasped the injured arm, pulling it further away from the boy's body, while the other grasped the hand hovering over the boy's organ, causing it to curl tightly around the weeping cock. One stroke, two, and the boy reared his head back, eyes clenched shut and his mouth open in completion, his hole tightening viciously against the invading organ. The shadow-man came soon after, grunting and groaning as he pumped his seed deep into the boy's hole.

With a trembling sigh, Piers slumped against the ground, his ass still high in the air. The shadow-man remained within him, but pushed down against the boy's back as he lay on top of him. They panted, gasping for breath, the shadow-man's sharp teeth still glinting in the pale moonlight shining down. "Now..." he panted. "You are mine, little lamb."

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