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The Riley family is a long time shepherding family, rearing sheep in a plot of ancestral land bordered by thick forests and hills. A little overgrown road through the edge of the forest connects the family to the nearest village, often just a happy mother with her two shy sons that helps her carry the produce to sell at the market and later groceries as they return home. Their father is a quiet man, away with the flock but comes back home every week or so to teach his sons how to handle the flock.
Villagers loved to buy their sheep milk cheese, a secret recipe handed down in the family from father to child. It always sold out quick in the market alongside the mother's famous milk bread. Their wool and meat were well-received too, often the only vendor to sell mutton and provided wool to make clothes for the village. The family although a quiet and isolated bunch, were happily accepted into the village as part of them.
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That very same family was accused of bringing the plague to the village years later, causing several deaths by their rotten meat. The mother protested vehemently at the accusation, no rotten meat were sold to the village! But the stubborn villagers were hardened by grief, turned their ears away from her pleading. The mother was soon hanged without a trial, accused of being a witch that brought a curse to the village. Her children that came with her were locked up, one thrown into an abandoned well and the other in a hollow of a tree.
Their father returned too late, leaving his flock for the village as he finds his home wrecked and abandoned. He found the rotting corpse of his wife still hanging on the tree, the village behind her abandoned by surviving refugees as the plague killed too many of their own. His cries of anguish wards off any lingering wildlife, already salivating over the abundance of rotten meat in the area. He wanders aimlessly in the deserted village, stumbling over his feet with dirt caking his hands. He had laid his wife to rest under the tree, watering her shallow grave with tears and more tears.
He reaches the end of the village, stumbling into the rarely covered abandoned well, the stink of a now familiar rotting scent invading his nose. The man faces death once again, barely recognizing the maggot infested face of his second son, staring up the sky with a surviving milky eye. Cursing the family, the villagers had tossed rotten meat into the well, covering it up to get away from the smell. The teen couldn't hold his hunger, ate the rotten meat that devoured him back after he succumbed to the plague.
The man retches and vomits by the side of the well, couldn't bare to look at the horrible sight any longer. He cries hoarsely into the dirt, his family… all dead… his other son! He needs to find him! The man scrambles to his feet, running to every known corner that his son could be trapped in. The dumps? Nothing! The lake? No son in sight! Where the hell is his son?!
The burnt remains of a tree hollow comes into sight, ashen wood bars still in place over the entrance. A blackened hand curled on the rung — His son is in there! The man rushed over to the tree, hands shaking as he touches the stiff hand. He squints into the hollow, his son surprisingly free from burns apart from his face and limbs as his clothes must have protected him from most of the fire. He can see the shallow rise and fall of his son's chest, and he cries once more. This time, with tears of relief.
The man carries his son out carefully after prying his burnt hand off the bars, leaving death and devastation behind him as he rejoins his flock through the forest. His son lays limp in his arms, left hand charred into a permanent curl with various burns littering his thin body. Oh, his pitiful son.. The man weeps silently on his journey home, mourning the sudden loss of his family by angry villagers.
The father nurses his comatose son in the thankfully untouched bed, peeling off burnt fabric from red skin. The woolen fabric had protected his son and he had never been more thankful that his family rears sheep. He wipes the soot and dirt off his son, cleaning what he can before applying burn salve on serious burns and wrapped with wet gauze. The less serious injuries are wrapped with boiled yarrow leaves and more gauze, his son all bandaged up by the time he's done dressing the wounds.
Simon is all that he has of the Riley family now.
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Simon whistles into the air, with light pitter-pattering approaching quickly towards him. "Heel. good girl, Molly." He pats the side of the collie, the puppy leaning close against his leg as she obeys his command. Simons looks out to the border of his land and the forest, brow twitching slightly as the beast disappears into the forest once again. The evening sun shines through the woods, letting Simon catch a glimpse of piercing blue eyes.
That beast-thing had been stalking around for weeks now, not attacking any of his sheep but its constant presence has been scaring the flock. The collie was on guard for the first few days, always growling in the direction of the forest as his flock steers clear from the border. The growling did stop, but it's now replaced with a longing stare Simon knows fondly as the begging-for-food stare. That fucker bribed his dog.
The flock, smarter than his dog, still keep away from the border, preferring to graze on the hillside with more dandelions and alfalfas under their noses. Simon keeps a wary eye over the horizon, worried that the thing would pounce for his sheep after these few weeks of stalking. But for now, they are at a stalemate.
He massages his stiff wrist as he walks back home, the old scar making his joint stiff if he held a static position for long periods of time. "Let's go home, Molly." Molly trots along beside him dutifully and with a few short whistles, shoots off towards the sheep flock. She stalks them from behind, urging them back towards the barn and changing directions as needed with Simon's guidance.
The small flock baa-s resentfully as they settle into the barn for the night, Simon making sure to replenish their feed and no lambs were missing. With the sun already set over the horizon, all he had was the dim moonlight and Molly to guide him back home.
With their house in sight, Simon and Molly tenses simultaneously; Simon out of fear and Molly out of readiness. There's a smell of blood in front of his door. He approaches his house cautiously, noting the lack of blood but the scent lingers in the air. Something is bundled up in cleanly skinned furs on his small porch. Molly sniffs at it excitedly, tail wagging up a storm as she recognizes the scent of food.
He tugs the very enthusiastic Molly away from the furs, unwrapping it to find fresh meat, thick cuts with just the right amount of fat and lean meat. Boar from the looks of it and freshly cut with how blood still drips with a light hold. The cuts are very clearly made with sharp claws, the marks obvious to a seasoned shepherd like him, the marks of a wolf, albeit much larger.
Simon sure that the thing— wolf left this here. No one in their right mind would leave precious meat at a stranger's doorstep but he isn't complaining. He bundles up the meat carefully, hugging it close to his chest. "Thank you, for the meat." His thanks are spoken out loud into the wind, hearing a light huff in response a beat later. So that wolf's still here. Simon chuckles to himself, walking into his house with Molly in tow, closing the door behind him with a click.
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The wolf emerges from the bushes not far away, standing to his full height on his hind legs; continues growling proudly as his potential mate accepts his gift. His large tail swishes languidly, exposing his happy emotions to the moon and trees. He had been following his little mate for weeks, observing the way he cares for his charge, he would be a good mother for their children; how his mate doesn't break a sweat on his daily hikes, how his ass is deliciously plump in those tight pants… The way what little skin he shows glows in the sun, blonde hair so pale it blends in with his sheep. His little lamb smells fertile too, sweet and earthy that reminds him of home. He's a strong prey. A strong little lamb as his sweet mate.
Cloud moves away from the moon, the dim moonlight illuminating the large figure of the beast. Bright blue eyes and a long snout, dark brown fur that blends easily into the trees with a longer section of fur from the top of his head connecting to his tail, now gleam under the moonlight. A werewolf in his prime. He stalks back into the woods, thinking of more things to gift his mate, now that he's accepted the first courting gift.
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More gifts appear at his house, various cut of meats but there's something more now. A little necklace made from wolf teeth, a beautiful sculpture of him with blackthorn wood, thoroughly soaked in its flower's scent with a hint of musk; and something Simon uses more often as the weather turns colder, a beautiful black fur cloak. That thing must have great care in making each gift. He wears the necklace, the little sculpture displayed by his nightstand, and he sews several pockets in the cloak, somewhere to put things he picked up on his daily hikes.
In return for the beautiful gifts, he gets one of his oldest sheep and slaughters it. The sheep was already old, barely hanging in the back of the flock and it's not much of a loss to Simon anyways. He says a little prayer over it— another one of his father's teachings, as he slits its throat. He lets the blood drain into a bucket while he collects his tools to skin it, prepping a few more buckets to collect its organs and meat after.
He works through the sheep efficiently, cutting through the skin with a sharp knife and peeling the skin off smoothly. With the skin taking the sheep's head off, Simon is free to cut the sheep open, letting its guts spill into an empty bucket. The blood and guts will be dealt with later to make sausages and snacks for Molly but for now, he focuses on choosing the best cut for the wolf.
He chooses the leg of the sheep, the meat tender and with a nice amount of fat, the best cut in his opinion. With the chosen cut in mind, he dismembers the rest of the meat, coating them in salt before hanging them up in the shed to dry. He lugs the leg back to his kitchen, taking great care to debone and marinate the meat cuts.
While waiting for the flavour to seep into the meat, he prepares more gifts for the beast. He plans on making blood sausages for the future, since every part of his sheep is precious. The bad parts are taken out and buried, with the rest of the offal minced and mixed with fresh blood. The intestines are cleaned inside and out to be stuffed with the meat filling, and once stuffed full, the sausage is tied up to be boiled to perfection in a pot. And now he just has to wait.
And wait he did. He cleaned off the mess he made outside, made sure to give Molly some of the fresh meat for lunch and headed off to shower off the sweat and grime. In his frankly open outhouse, he felt eyes following his every move as he takes his clothes off. His wolf's eyes. He can feel it tracing over every swell and divot on his naked scarred body, watching closely at the empty space between his legs as he turns to get water for his shower. He can feel the gaze getting heavier as he bends down to grab the water dipper, showing off his rounds ass and beautiful virgin cunt to his observer.
Simon hears low growls from the woods, nesting birds flying off in alarm and the area is plunged into an odd stillness as a predator announces his presence. A shiver runs down his spine, goosebumps raising with wetness threatening to leak down his thighs. It's arousing to be wanted by someone, even if that someone or something is a giant beast.
The odd tension disappears suddenly, his wolf apparently running away based on the loud thudding sounds that quietens and bird chirping returns. Simon straighten up as he looks back at the woods, raising a brow at the ridiculousness of the situation. His wolf, who has been quite obvious with his attraction to Simon, running away at the sight of his cunt? He almost feels offended, but with a quick shower and returning to where the wolf ran from, the deep claw marks into the soil shows how strong the wolf's restraint is. He's been holding back.. for what?
Simon returns to his kitchen deep in thought, the smell of marinated meat and cooked sausage wafting in the air. His offering is ready it seems. He extinguishes the fire, hooking the string of sausages out to hang and dry. Molly pawing at the door isn't helping either, whining pitifully at the delicious scent of cooked meat, begging for any scraps Simon would throw her way. Her actions earned her a piece of blood sausage, cooled enough for her sensitive dog tongue. Time to offer this gift.
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The wolf ran with his cock hard between his legs. His little lamb too irresistible. Intentionally showing off how fertile he is— he could smell his mate's arousal, the scent far more alluring than he expected. So sweet he would have pounced the moment his mate presented but he respects the courting process. His lamb needs to reciprocate his gifts by gifting him a return offering.
He ran to his den, cock still dripping hard with his knot threatening to form as the base. He grips it hard, the pain distracting his bout of arousal. No, he can't. He can't waste a single drop of his cum to his hand, not when there will be a better place to shoot his cum into- a warm, tight hole that belongs to his mate. He growls in frustration, more pre dripping onto the dirt floor. He needs to see his mate. He could fix this.
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In the evening after he's gathered the flock in the barn, Simon places several blood sausages and marinated meat on a wooden board, still dripping in marinade and meat juices by the woods. Not really sure about his wolf's presence, he shouts out, "If you're there, there's some meat for you here. As thank you for your gifts." Simon stays in place for a moment but doesn't hear anything approaching. He's shy, Simon thinks to himself before walking back to his house.
He makes sure to sit by the window that night, eating his dinner before seeing a massive bipedal wolf walk out of the bushes, sniffing at the platter before scarfing the meat down. Fucking hell, he's massive. He watches the wolf picks up the last of the sausages with his hand— a werewolf? and chucks it into his maw. With the meat all gone, the wolf picks up the wood block, making sure to lick up all the leftover juices, not wasting anything. The sight of such a beast eating is even more oddly arousing for Simon; thoughts of him being held down by this wolf, his long tongue curling in his cunt to taste him… Such a strong being is interested in him.
His thighs squeezes together, longing for the wolf to fill his empty cunt. Simon sticks his hand down his pants almost immediately, smearing the wetness around his folds to coat his dick, flicking it in time with each lick by the wolf. He watches the wolf settle down on the grass, each ravenous lick getting more sensual as it curls around the block. A pink tip slowly emerges from the dark fur, the wolf's cock is getting erect.
Simon watches in fascination as the wolf drools all over the board, spit dripping down onto his now full hard cock. His cock is proportionate to his size, easily the length of Simon's entire arm and it's making Simon leak more. Knowing how full he will be when the wolf fucks him, making his stomach bulge out, to carve out a place in him and fully wreck his cunt. His rhythm stutters when the wolf starts rubbing his cock all over the board, smearing his drool and pre everywhere. Two fingers enter his hole when the wolf growls so loudly it vibrates his core. He cums when he sees white coating the board.
Simon stews in his aftershocks with a lazy finger circling his cock, watching the wolf orgasm far longer than he expected, with more cum too. The board is positively covered with cum, some still dripping from his tip as the wolf settles back with a huff. The wolf seems disappointed at his lack of restraint, muzzle curling into a slight grimace. He stands up, and with slow but sure steps, approaches the window to make eye contact with a frozen Simon. The wolf scoops up the cum from his tip, flinging it onto the clear glass. "Run little lamb, or I'll eat you whole."
Simon bolts out the back door. His pants still loose around his waist with a big wet spot on his front but he doesn't care. His wolf is going to eat him. He laughs out loud as he rushes into the woods, branches snagging his clothes and ripping them to shreds. His body is pumping with adrenaline, heart beating a thousand beats per minute with a wolf chasing him from behind. He knows this part of the woods like the back of his hand, having recently buried his father with his mother under the old tree.
He does a last sprint towards the graves before getting tackled, huge paws pressing his body down into the dirt. Claws rips through the shredded fabric easily, tearing his clothing off before throwing it somewhere. He struggles under the massive paw, legs kicking out to kick solid muscles. A loud growl stops him in his struggle, the hand lifting not to let him go, but to scruff his neck and press his face into the dirt. "Caught you, little lamb. Stay."
The hand on the back of his neck lets go, hoisting him up and making Simon gasp in the breath he held subconsciously. He comes face to face with the massive cock, the tips already reaching his chest as he's held against it. He feels the wolf's hands roaming down his back, groping his waist and spanking his ass, watching it jiggle from the force. His folds part as the wolf spreads his ass, revealing his clenching holes, winking at the predator above. Arousal leaks from his cunt once again, legs still shaking from the adrenaline and excitement for what's to come.
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The wolf huffs at the scent, very pleased with how sweet and fertile his mate smells. He licks a long stripe from the drooling cunt to asshole, smearing slick and spit over both holes. Delicious too. His tongue explores his mate's folds, dipping in and making sure to dribble lots of spit into the waiting hole; his little lamb needs all the help he can get to fit onto his cock.
Wet sounds fill his sensitive ears, but his mate isn't moaning enough. He needs him louder, to announce their mating so no one can steal his chosen mate. The wolf forces his tongue deep into his mate, licking around the delicious flesh and pushing against the swollen spongy spot he feels with his tongue. His little lamb moans loudly beneath him as he licks over that spot, legs shaking around his shoulders. Found his bitch button.
He continues to prod the spot with his tongue harshly, pushing a claw alongside his tongue to stretch his mate out quicker. The sharp point of his claw makes his mate squeal like a bitch, walls clenching hard around his claw and tongue as more tasty slick floods his mouth. His bitch came just from a claw in his cunt. Fuck, he needs him now.
The wolf flips his mate over, strong enough to hold him up with one hand, his cock now resting on his mate. His mate struggles in his hold once more after seeing the size of his cock on their stomach, reaching easily pass their belly button. Pre spurts onto his mate's stomach, the sight too arousing for the wolf. "Do not worry mate, I will make it fit." "No, you can't! You'll break me!"
The wolf ignores his bitch's protests and starts forcing his tip into his barely stretched cunt. His mate struggles against the pain, tears brimming around his beautiful brown eyes, the sight making him even harder. The wolf coos at his crying mate, licking tears away just as the soft tip slips inside with some difficulty, needing to pull his mate's folds apart just to get it in. The immediate tightness around his tip makes him groan out loud, hand tightening around his mate's waist.
"So tight. Mate has a perfect cunt, need to fill and breed—" The wolf starts pulling Simon towards him, his virgin cunt stretching painfully around the oversized girth. "It hurts—!" Simon holds onto the wolf's massive arm, trying to push himself away from the pain. Blood drips onto the floor from his cunt, his hymen torn as he's forced open by the wolf, his mate. He flails his other arm around, hitting the wolf's snout in an attempt to let him go.
Getting impatient with his little bitch, the wolf bites down on the flailing arm and forces Simon down to the hilt in one go. Simon shrieks in pain, tears flowing down the sides of his face for the pain is too overwhelming. His cunt feels swollen and numb, flesh scarily pale around the blood-tinged cock. He looks up at his mate, the wolf nearly feral with spit dribbling down his maw and around Simon's arm. Simon's blood mixes with the spit, now dripping into Simon's open panting mouth. It's terrifying.
The pressure around his arm disappears, replaced with gentle licking over the bite wound. "Sorry." The wolf starts to retreat, beginning to pull Simon off his cock with a low growl.
Simon feels empty all of the sudden, already missing the fullness that ravaged his insides not too long ago. He wraps his legs around his mate's thick waist, pulling himself back onto his mate's cock and feeling the satisfying fullness once again. "It's hah- okay, you can keep hgnh- biting." He offers his bleeding arm back into his mate's maw, inner walls clenching in anticipation of the pain again.
The wolf groans at the obedience of his mate, submitting to him so beautifully and offering up his body for his own pleasure. He holds Simon right above his growing knot, claws digging into the dirt as he tries to restrain from using Simon like a cocksleeve. "Give me your name little lamb, and I'll give you mine. Names are important for us wolves. You're mine, and I'm yours."
"S-Simon, name's Simon."
"John. And now you're mine, Simon." The wolf- no, John snarls, his grip on Simon's waist tighten to pull him down on his growing knot. Simon can't get any fuller. His cunt feels like it's about to split open on John's knot; his fur isn't helping either, gently tickling the underside of his cock with each attempted thrust. With how tight Simon is clenching on his cock, no wonder his knot can barely enter his mate. John snarls again in frustration, "Loosen up bitch, or I'll force it in."
Simon shudders at the degrading name, his cunt tightening up further as his arousal heightens. His uselessly trembling legs try to pull himself onto his mate's cock again, grinding on the wolf's knot to force his hole open and accommodate the fist-sized knot. Simon can feel his mate's cock twitching in him, insides stuffed full while his mate's knot barely enters him. Hiccups wrack through Simon's body, the desperation to get his mate's knot in him forcing him to throw away his pride and beg loudly. "Please- Johnny, help— get your knot in me please— Fill me up— Make me your breeding bitch—"
His begging whimpers are like music to John's ears, ears perking up and tail wagging as he basks in his bitch's subservience to his knot. He moves Simon around easily with a hand, thrusting deep into his mate's waiting hole, forcing his overstretched hole to stretch even more. He needs to break his mate so no one else can use this fertile cunt except for him.
His clawed thumb easily reaches Simon's little dick, letting his claw prod his mate's other bitch button. Simon squeals again, watching the sharp claw toy with his dick. The threat of being marked so savagely by a wolf sends out a burst of arousal in Simon, his cunt orgasming involuntarily with a huge wave of slick, lubricating the way for John's knot to slip into him perfectly.
The sudden fullness of the knot presses down on all his sensitive spots, hurtling him into another screaming orgasm. His body struggles against the pleasure, black spots appearing in his sight that he has to blink away. He shifts his hips dazedly, watching the bulge on his stomach shift with his movement. The sight makes Simon whimper, the wolf really did make Simon fit around his cock.
Simon lets go of his death grip on his mate's arm, placing a trembling hand over the bulge, tracing the frankly disturbing way it pushes all his organs away to fit inside him, " 's all in, so big, so full—"
John growls out in approval, claw scraping his bitch's clit as a reward, earning him a nice massage around his knot. "Made for me. Need to keep you on my cock always, a perfect breeding cocksleeve." That earns him another whine, his mate's insides rippling around his cock as he cums again.
The straining restraint on John snaps, both hands curling around his mate's lithe waist as he settles on his haunches, finally using his cocksleeve properly. Simon slides up and down John's cock with loud wet noises, cunt greedily sucking onto the wolf's cock and popping over his knot. Each thrust pushes John into his impending orgasm, while Simon already orgasmed countless times with how numb his inside feels.
With a few more deep thrusts, knot popping back into its rightful place as John orgasms with a loud howl. Hot spurts of cum fills Simon's womb, the amount and potency definitely getting him pregnant. He wants to have John's pups. Be his breeding bitch. Simon cums for the final time with a weak whine, muscles tired from the orgasms before but still desperately milking his mate's cock. The sheer girth of the knot manages to hold all of the cum inside Simon, still pumping into him as John pulls him up into a soft embrace.
John returns to his den with Simon still impaled on his cock, one hand supporting Simon's slack body. The trek to his den forces Simon deeper onto his cock, the pressure too hard on his mate's little bladder as he pisses himself all over John. His mate cries out of embarrassment, but with nowhere to go, he relieves himself right then and there. John coos at his shy mate, nuzzling on the top of his head as he feels warm liquid dribbling down his front. "Good mate, marking your territory is good. You're learning the way of the wolves."
Still, for the comfort of his mate, John does a detour to the river to wash the mix of drying fluids off their bodies. Simon wanting to get off to wash more thoroughly but John doesn't relent. He keeps Simon on his soft but still girthy cock, willing to endure the hard punches by his mate as he dips both of them in deeper waters. He lets the river water run through them, rinsing most of the fluids away until they felt clean. He carries his mate all the way back of course, not willing to part with his mate for even a second.
The fresh mates reach their den, adrenaline flagging with tiredness welcoming them with open arms. John lays on his pile of furs with his mate spread on top of him, yawning tiredly as the mating took a lot of out of him. The wolf tugs a few thick furs to cover both their nakedness from the weather, letting his mate cozy up in his furry chest for his long waited sleep. "Sleep, Simon, I will be with you always."