Six months earlier.
It was at a beach party that Jack was turned. Someone, an acquaintance, invited him and a few bottles, to the dunes on the South Kentish Sea front near Dungeness.
As usual, he drank a bit too much, but he was sure afterwards, that his drink was spiked. Certainly, he had a metallic taste in his mouth the next morning and a monumental headache, the like he had never experienced before. He was also quite photosensitive to the point of almost being blinded by the sunlight.
He was alone and all that remained of the previous night’s party were a few dying embers in the fire, and a few beer bottles and cans scattered around. The sea was an impossible distance away, having receded in tidal action. Littlestone is a shallow section of the shore, all sand and the sea pulls back by up to a mile in places before rushing back on the return tide. The foreshore though, is untouched by the modern demand for entertainment and retains its wild untended desolation, as nature built it over millennia.
He rolled over, trying to find some shelter from the sunlight that seemed to be burning into his brain like a laser. A new pain announced its presence.
Christ, he thought, what the fuck did she do to me? I dim recollection of his previous nights excesses came to him. He couldn’t see the wound but his tentative touches revealed a large bite or something on the side of his neck just above where it joins the shoulder. It hurt like hell and now that he was aware of it, also burned as fiercely as the sun.
Somehow, Jack found some shelter, cowering beside a tall marsh-grass covered dune. The sea breeze whipped the sand up which felt like little knives as it hit him, but at least, he was shaded from the merciless sun. He managed to sleep for a few hours, curled in the foetal position.
The day progressed through the afternoon. The sun lowered and the sea returned in its rush to scour the exposed sand. Jack woke, feeling parched and his stomach gurgled its emptiness.
He opened his eyes gingerly as if to test the quality of light and how much pain it would induce. Gradually, they focused on a bright red pair of plastic sandals that were occupied by a pair of dirty bare feet.
The child, standing a scant few feet away, regarded him intently, not moving or saying anything as her subject uncoiled and groaned awake.
Jack’s senses coalesced into cognitive order. After his visual appraisal of the young child who so studiously observed him, he became aware of her smell. He couldn’t put a name to it, but somehow, it smelled wholesome. Yes, wholesome was a good description of her smell.
He heard her blood pulsing through her veins. The sound, when he realised what it was, both frightened him and excited his senses, provoking a momentary and inexplicable hunger.
She turned and imperiously walked away, leaving him feeling desperately lonely suddenly. He watched her go, thinking to call her back, but he didn’t, he was still trying to understand how he could have heard her blood and sensed her smell so vividly
He got up from his laying position and tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him and he sat back down with a thud. The depression in the soft sand where he had lain for the day, made an uncomfortable ridge that jarred his ribs as he almost fell. He stayed in his relatively safe place until dusk.
Soundlessly, she approached him, coming from down wind and only letting him know she was there when she was close enough to have attacked him before he would have had a chance to protect himself. It was her voice that announced her presence.
“So you’re alive then.” Her clothes looked to be rags, but were in fact, a dress made up of strips of printed cloth. White hair fell to below shoulder length and an almost translucent face framed pitch black eyes.
He recognised her from the previous night and then remembered the wild sex they had enjoyed until it all became too weird. Her smell intrigued him and arose a heightened awareness of his sexual arousal, made all the more obvious by his stiffening cock. He realised for the first time that he was naked, not even his socks were around.
The sun had sunk now and dark was dropping like a final curtain on the day, but it was light enough for him to see her transformation. She dropped to her knees and her face stretched and elongated into a snout, her body changes were mostly covered by her dress, but he could see well enough, the altered outline of her silver coloured furry body.
His own transformation took no less time. It seemed to him, that one second he was a man and the next, he had changed into a wolf, complete with black fur and a mouth full of teeth. An inconsequential thing struck him the hardest. Colour went from his visual understanding; everything took on an aspect of grey, black or white. Strangely, he mourned this loss more than anything else.
He should have been frightened by the change. Should have been a mess of confusion, but somehow, the transformation from Human to lupine seemed a perfectly natural progression.
She stepped out of the dress and crossed the few feet between them. Her brush against him produced a thrill that coursed through his body, producing a shiver of pleasure.
His nose told him she was in oestrous and ready to mate. He would have to impress her in some way to gain her favour. He needn’t have worried because her overtures towards him left no room for doubt. She licked his jowls and came to him in supplication, her tail down and crouching. She licked his mouth again and then spun, buffeting him playfully with her haunches. She lowered her head and licked his sheath with a long lash of her tongue. There was very little nuance about her next action, she turned once more and presented her rear to his nose for inspection.
He couldn’t help but take in her scent, breathing it deeply so that it passed over his olfactory sense glands and triggered the mating ritual. He licked her centre and then again, making her wet with his saliva. Her vulva pouted at his touch and she whined her readiness for him.
With no further preamble, he mounted her, his cock already prodding through its sheath and questing for her sex. It took a few attempts, but once they had shifted into a position where he was perfectly aligned, he forcible shoved forward while locking his forepaws around her haunches and pulling her into him. Once inside, he started a furious pace of fucking her. It lasted for quite some time and soon, his tongue lolled from the side of his mouth with the effort.
Instinct took over and very soon he was pummelling her sex with his massive cock, scrabbling his hind legs in an effort to get deeply embedded within her body. Her tail got in the way once or twice and was a distraction, but only until his body was entirely supported on her rump, his legs off the ground and his knot passed into her. His thrusting stopped as she locked her muscles around his bulbous knot. It swelled from the massage her body gave it and then he began his release. His seed pumped in long streams while she milked him with convulsions of her muscles until he was totally dry.
He signalled his completion by trying to dismount. The pain was almost unbearable and in a desperate attempt, he managed to twist and stand rear to rear as her sex gripped him in a vice-like embrace that continued to pulsate and milk every last drop from him. Feeling like he would never be released, he tried to pull out of her and away, but her muscles had totally enclosed him and would not let go.
Eventually, after ten minutes that seemed like hours, she relaxed her grip on him and they parted. She spun on him and nipped his shoulder. It was then that he noticed several pairs of eyes reflecting what luminescent light there was, silently staring from the surrounding dunes. They had also approached noiselessly from downwind.
Then, in a melee of furry bodies, they greeted him and her, rolling over in supplication and whining their joy at the addition and their successful mating. All except one joined in, in the confusing dance. She stood separate, observing them with a cool dispassionate stare.
His mate yipped once and began to slope off along the beach. The pack, for that is what it was, followed silently. Not knowing what else to do, he followed and shortly was running in an easy ground covering gait alongside the silver wolf, who was now carrying his cubs.
They travelled for some time, angling away from the sea and over a tarmac road towards the restaurant at the end of the miniature railway that ran from Hythe to Dymchurch through Romney. The stink of oil and human made him want to gag, but fortunately, it passed by quickly as their ground covering pace left it behind.
They were heading towards a row of houses set back and away from the road. Only shingle and gorse was between them and the brightly lit houses. She slowed her pace and became more cautious, smelling the air as she went.
A door opened to one of the houses, flooding light across the shingle, a figure was briefly silhouetted in the frame. It turned back briefly to shout something back into the house and then the door was pulled shut and the figure started to walk towards the gate, set in a wooden fence. .
She crouched behind a gorse bush and watched to see what would happen. The rest of the pack fanned out and crouched behind her, finding what cover they could.
The man was walking towards them and his doom, whistled a tuneless trill that grated on Jack’s ears. They waited until he was almost upon them. The thrill of the hunt was a palpable adrenalin rush. He didn’t see what hit him and his defence mechanism was too slow to protect his throat. His arm, when it came up to ward the dark shadow away, only brushed her flank as her teeth sank into his throat and with a deft twist of her body, tore it wide open. His last breath escaped from a windpipe that no longer was connected to his mouth.
He fell to the floor and the pack descended on his cooling body in a snarling, ripping mass of bodies. It took less than ten minutes before the fully-grown man was reduced to shreds. They left his head and entrails and very little else.
Jack had watched, horrified, the violence and sheer ruthlessness of the attack left him bereft of any will.
Sated, the wolves backed away, leaving his silver furred mate standing over the remains of the man. His blood soaked clothes shredded and scattered in an arc around her. She looked at him; blood stained her muzzle and yipped her invitation for him to feed. He trotted over to her and the bloody pile and sniffed. The stench of blood and shit made him gag. Turning away, he retched on an empty stomach.
He could hear the pack laughing at his condition, all except her. She stood and silently told him to eat. Challenging him to take his first share of a victim. He refused and started to run in the first direction he could, his tail tucked under him.
He didn’t go too far though, his sexual exertions and lack of food soon had him panting and needing to rest. He had to eat. It was a primal urge and basic requirement. He needed to eat and soon, otherwise he would weaken and die. He knew it in some fundamental way, an understanding of how things are.
A little later found him stalking a rabbit. He found silent movement came as second nature. Closing to within a few feet, he pounced and snapped his jaws around the rabbit’s head, breaking its neck instantly. It would be enough for now, perhaps until tomorrow, but he knew he couldn’t eat human. Their stink turned him off and just the remembrance of it, almost lost him his meal.
“Bravo”, she mocked, “behold the mighty hunter”. He had missed her approach and was taken by surprise. Come on she instructed. He followed her lead, not knowing where they were going. Her scent as it wafted back to him, was overwhelming. Purposefully, he tripped her with a swipe across her back legs and then, as she struggled to get up, he was upon her, griping her neck until she submitted to him and his superior strength and weight.
He allowed her up and without any niceties, mounted her in a frenzy of lust, brought on by the adrenalin rush of the hunt and her intriguing smell. The act was violent, almost a rape, but their bodies responded to a primeval dance of procreation. He buried his cock and then his knot into her willing and receptive sex. His completion erupted inside her as she clamped him in and milked his cock of all its juice.
He threw his head back and howled a series of triumphant yodels that announced his mastery of her. His calls were answered in the distance by the pack their sound travelling for miles. Then the local dogs set up to yelling as well, adding to the cacophony.
She led him back to her dress where she had found him on the beach. The light in the sky was showing that dawn was only a matter of a few hours away.
She transformed back into the lithe, white haired woman who had turned him. Her young body in human form was not unpleasant to see, but there was a cruel look in her eyes that evoked distrust.
“The first time is always the worst”. She told him, meaning everything he guessed. “Here”. She threw him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been rolled up in the folds of her dress. Jack transformed as the first light rose and was immediately overcome with a desperate fatigue. He flopped to the ground in a boneless heap.
“You will also get used to that”. She remarked in an offhanded way. “You had better come with me. I can see you are going to need a bit of time to adjust”.
“Why didn’t you just kill and eat me?”
“We needed a male and you looked okay. Besides, I thought you quite cute. Welcome to the pack”. She spun and walked off across the dunes towards the road and the council houses on the other side.
Their lair turned out to a basement of a Victorian house that looked about ready for demolition. Plywood boards covered the tall windows and wire fence panels in heavy rubber feet, clamped together, formed a boundary protection.
Alice, the alpha female, lit a few lamps and welcomed him into the den. The rest followed them in and dispersed to settees and chairs arranged around the dank room. It was Jack’s first time to really observe the group in human form. Five women faced him of various ages and body shapes. They took little notice of him and once their initial chatter died, they slept.
Sordid. That was how it all seemed, sordid and just an existence.
“So, err, what is your name?”
“Jack.”
“So Jack, what do you think eh?” She swept her arm in an expansive, all encompassing gesture. “What do you think of our home from home and our pack?”
“To be honest, all this blows me away”. He told her. “And I am trying to make sense of it all. Yesterday, or was it the day before, I was an ordinary guy, making a living and getting by. Now though, well… well what am I? And what does it all mean?”
“I would have thought what you are, was obvious.”
“What you have made me is painfully obvious.” He couldn’t resist the scorn. “It’s what it means from here on in. What is to become of me? My art? My life?”
“It means sweetie, your almost invulnerable and will live by night. It means your diet is going to change and it means you will be less tolerant of daylight.” She matched his scorn. “It isn’t like on the movies; the sun won’t burn you to a pile of dust, like a Vampire, just that you won’t be able to get a suntan. Oh! And by the way, you can be killed. It doesn’t need a silver bullet; any fucking bullet will kill you. Any major injury is a problem because it will slow you down and nobody will feed you baby. If you get injured, you’re on your own.”
He thought to himself for a while and then asked the question that had been bugging him and her mention of the movies brought it to the fore.
“I expected the transformation to be a painful transition. I didn’t feel it really; just the loss of colour and heightened senses was about it. I could still reason and think, but it just felt different, not like in the movies at all.”
“Those old films and in particular, American Werewolf in London have a lot to answer for. In time, you will even get used to the colourlessness, perhaps even look forward to those three nights when you can run free and hunt to kill and eat. You will live for the hunt. You will hunt to live.”
“I think we will always be different there. I could never kill or eat a person like you did tonight. I can’t stand the smell of them in that way.”
“You will.” She assured him. “You will, it just takes a bit of time to adjust. Now, come lover, let’s make some puppies.”
“What? In front of these?” He swept a gaze over the reclining women.
“It didn’t bother you last night. They were all there to see the new king take his queen and boy you sure are king.” She lifted her dress and flashed him her fur covered sex, then span on her heels, laughing and mooned him.
He declined the offer as gracefully as he could and found a place to sleep.
The next evening, Jack awoke and almost tried to scratch his ear with his foot before he realised in what form he was. Hungry, he quietly left the basement and headed for home.
His house was just as he had left it. The detached house, safe, home with the accoutrements of comfort and the familiarity of use. Ravenously, he ripped open the fridge to see what was on offer and stuffed his face with everything he could.
He entered his studio and looked critically at the piece he had been working on. As a commercial work, it had merit, but he could see the weaknesses in it. He would paint from now on, in a completely different style, more aggressive, more daring. His living had been okay up to now, but pretty soon, he would be a celebrated name with international shows. He could feel it.
Twenty-seven days later.
Jack transformed for three nights. The first of the moon was only ever a partial change, but enough for his body to alter to wolf and a hunger to hunt and feed. The full moon, when he forgot his human side completely, and then the next night, when his transformation would arouse a terrible hunger and then would leave him totally exhausted.
Jack could not get over his revulsion for human flesh. The smell was enough each time they fed, to make him gag. He subsisted on rabbits and the occasional cat if he could find one too slow to escape.
On the twenty-seventh night, he climbed upon his Triumph and rode to the ramshackle house just as dusk was falling. He parked the motorcycle and wriggled into the basement. They were already there, waiting for him to turn up.
Alice was in a separate room, but the others all crowded around him even as they transformed. In an excited greeting, they crouched and approached him in supplication, brushing against him to re-affirm the bond of the pack. He smelled at each of them and playfully cuffed the most bold.
Alice growled a warning to them; they backed off, making space for the alpha female and male to welcome each other. She came to him as an equal, stiff legged and her tail straight out. The silver wolf checked him over smelling and buffeting him, taking stock of his condition and state of health.
Jack’s enforced change of lifestyle had put some weight on him. Eating at night felt foreign to him, so he had taken to binge eating as the night fell or morning rose. His altered metabolism stored fat that had begun to layer around his midriff.
They greeted each other and then, as one, the pack left the lair and went out to hunt.
She led them along the seashore where their tracks would be rubbed out by the incoming tide, towards Hythe. This stretch of beach is almost totally wild with only a golf course and an army firing range abutting the endless sand. They travelled the five miles or so at a steady lope until they reached the car park that announced the start of the holiday village.
Immediately, the mood changed from the carefree gambol it had been as they flew across the sandy shore, to a careful appraisal of the surrounding area. The car park was empty, with nothing but harsh street lamps and white lines on black top.
Music was blaring from a pub across the main road and light from the shop windows flooded the pavements outside. The occasional car drove along the road. Alice was careful to avoid the lit areas and stayed out of sight from the drivers as they passed.
They angled away from the main street and passed through an alley towards the sea end of the town. The houses started to space out the further from the town centre they went, but still Alice was cautious.
Eventually, they reached a large wall and took cover in a buddleia bush that leaned on the concrete of the sea defence. In front of them was a grassed area used during the day as a playing field for the local school children. At night, it had another fascination for play of a different kind and Alice knew that. They waited.
After some time, when total nightfall had dropped, a couple entered the park and sat on a bench at the far end. Still Alice waited, watching to see how things would pan out. Her patience was rewarded, because another couple came into the park and sat on the bench immediately in front of them. The girl was giggling and had obviously had a bit too much to drink.
Alice waited and the pack followed her lead. Their excitement increased in exponential increments as the time passed by, until they were positively jumping in anticipation. It was almost unbearable to just crouch there, waiting for the burst of energy that would signal the final point of the hunt.
The couple at the far end got up and walked away hand in hand, leaving the later couple to the park and their unseen audience. It looked as if the hunt was going sour shortly after, the male got up, pulling the drunken girl to her feet. The packs collective disappointment was quickly replaced by elation as he laid the girl on the grass. They watched as her clothing was stripped and the couple started to mate.
Alice signalled to one of the females who slipped out from the cover of the bush. It was a practiced ploy to distract the victim. She crawled on her belly, whining as she neared the couple. They sat up and made calling sounds to what they mistook as a dog in trouble. It was a fatal mistake. In a blur of moving fur, the pack broke cover and descended on the pair. Alice took the male in the throat, cutting off any chance of a cry, while the decoy did the same to the female. Pretty soon, all that remained of the victims was bloody clothing, two heads and the extremities.
Jack silently watched the horrific scenes of carnage. Both fascinated and appalled at the same time. Once again, the smell of their blood and shit, repelled him, but he watched and marvelled at the precision of the attack.
Sated, the wolves returned to where Jack waited for them. A massive excitement was coursing through the wolves and in their exuberance, they rushed Jack, falling over him and buffeting him in playful joust. Alice stalked away, heading for the lair. They followed, but at a leisurely pace, their stomachs full.
Lucy, who had been the decoy, rubbed herself against him and blatantly offered him her sex. Jack dutifully took her aroma in, but found that she was not ready to mate. It didn’t stop her though and she pushed him away from the pack towards the dunes. Soon they were far behind and isolated.
Her message was clear as she turned and confronted him. He could almost hear her asking, so Jack, are you going to fuck me, or what?
She lay on her side and spread her hind legs, exposing the soft fur and under belly. Again, Jack smelled her. She was in a state of arousal and, although not in season, was very ready to mate.
Playfully, she jumped up and ran around him until he started to get dizzy. With a deft move, he stuck a foreleg out and tripped her then jumped on her to pin her down. She did not resist his advance and turned under him so that her sex was raised and her tail twisted to one side out of the way.
Perhaps it was the lack of pheromones exuded when a bitch is on heat, but Jack seemed to take for ever getting excited. He had mounted her, but his cock didn’t respond as it had with Alice twenty-seven nights previously. Eventually though, the friction of him rubbing against her sex, produced the desired result. His cock found her opening and although almost dry, entered her in a savage thrust that made her howl.
Relentlessly, he pistoned into her, driving deeper and deeper until his knot banged against her outer walls. She was too tight and dry to accept him all the way, but he managed to climax, spraying sperm all over her rump. Satisfied for now, she wandered away to leave him cleaning himself.
He heard Alice in her silent approach and was ready for her attack. When it came, instead of an unprotected flank, Alice encountered his mouth and a full set of teeth. She was no match for his superior size and weight. After a short fight, he had her by the throat and could easily have ended her life right there and then. As it was, he had the taste of her blood on his tongue. It was foul and the reflexive desire to gag made the decision to release her that much easier.
She limped away, once more heading for the lair. Jack followed at a distance, his hunger put to one side for now.
When they got back to safety, Lucy was excitedly running around the others, yelling her success in seducing Jack, proudly showing of his seed where it dried on her. She stopped in mid-stride as they entered and cowered a little as Alice passed close by, but Alice ignored her and went to her own private room.
Lucy took up the crowing of her success until jack batted her one, tumbling her into an untidy heap against one of the settees.
They transformed after a while and after a short sleep, Jack picked up his bike and left them to their slumber to return home and a good meal of raw steak he had taken the trouble to get in. It hardly satisfied him, but the edge of his hunger was taken off.
That night, he made his way back to the lair. Lucy was in a terrible state, bleeding from several wounds and limping badly on what looked to be a broken forepaw.
Alice was nowhere to be seen, but a trail of blood led from the lair away towards the beach. He found her, dying from some deep gashes to her throat and shoulders. Her lifeblood was staining the golden sand.
She sighed and lifted her eyes towards him in silent pleading. Her transformation back to human form was a slow drawn out process, the effort too much for her.
“I’m sorry.” She managed to whisper. Her heart stopped and her eyes closed for a final time.
Four grey shapes descended on her and ripped the carcass to pieces. Her growing pups had died with her, already formed into tiny furless miniatures. The four finished the job and stared at him in silent challenge.
Disgusted, he turned and went back to the lair.
Lucy hobbled to him in greeting, but was really too weak to do more than acknowledge his entrance. He sat beside her and waited, not really knowing what for, but he waited alongside her until the morning.
The four murderesses returned during the early hours and looked at him with distain. They were not about to accept him now that Alice was gone. What need did they have of him? Until the question of hierarchy was sorted out, none of them would come into season, so he was just an extra for the moment.
When the morning light fell, they had all transformed into human form. It was obvious that Lucy’s wrist was at least fractured and she was going to struggle. Although quite a bit older than the four remaining members of the pack, in her current condition, she would be unable to fight for supremacy and therefore, set the pecking order.
It was Simone, a black girl, who became un-elected spokeswoman.
“You’re not wanted here Jack”. She told him. “We have no need for your kind so you may as well fuck off now.”
It occurred to Jack that she was just a bit too big for her own good.
“Simone,” he quietly started. “I would be careful about how you treat your mates.” His warning was said in a low and dangerous tone that left no room for error in its malice. The implied threat hit home and she backed down.
The others watched the confrontation with interest, but her capitulation ended the spectacle, they fell to getting comfortable for sleep.
A somewhat relieved Jack thought about there being only the one more night until the current moon phase passed for another twenty-seven days. He also slept, but in the room previously occupied by Alice. Her smell invaded his nose and he dreamt of her.
Dusk fell and found the diminished pack ready to go out on the hunt. Lucy was in no condition and had weakened during the day. Her wrist/paw had swollen to more than three times its normal size and her wounds had become infected.
Jack thought she would probably die by the morning or certainly by the next evening when, even in human form, she would be too weak to do very much and either dehydration or hunger would account for her. He tried to feel pity, but somehow, it just wouldn’t happen. He left the lair and the pack for the last time and hunted alone.
He took no thrill from the hunt and killing a sheep was too easy. The stupid animal was too dozy to react. Half-heartedly, he ate and then disposed of the remains in the canal.
Pack and friendless, Jack returned home to try and plan how he would survive.
A piece in the local newspaper a few days later, described how three girls were found shot dead and naked in a popular lovers meeting place. Police could find no identification and there were no missing persons listed that matched the descriptions. A smaller piece two or three pages in, reported the finding of a woman who had obviously crawled to safety in a dilapidated house basement after a terrible beating, only to die of dehydration. The pack was finished.
He couldn’t mourn the loss of their lives, but he felt a sudden profound loneliness. He may not have fitted in the pack, but they were his own kind and now, as far as he knew, he was the only one.
Present.
Jack’s lifestyle had altered now to accommodate the regular alterations. By keeping a diary and being careful, jack managed to drive his motorcycle to places widespread in order to make his kills. Although he didn’t particularly enjoy the hunt, he soon found that eating raw meat was no substitute for a freshly killed carcass. It was something to do with a need for hot blood he reasoned.
By spreading his hunting grounds, he was able to restrict himself to sheep or the occasional pig. Never returning to the same place and always hiding the remains, kept the danger of discovery to a minimum.
Jack drove to Tenterden with the intention of finding the wild boar that lived in the forest knowing that, even if he missed them, there would be plenty of Red Deer as a stand by. Stalking deer did at least provoke some excitement. The shy creatures needed to be carefully tracked or even ambushed. They had the advantage of large ears and fleet escape, making them something of a challenge.
His luck was good, and shortly after dark, he located a group of the wild boar in a culvert. Their eyesight was not particularly good, so he was able to be almost among them before the alarm was raised.
He singled out a sow and separated the group by diving through the middle and then angling away and up, splitting her from the rest. In desperation, she tried to run, squealing her fright as he closed. His killing bite took her by the scruff of her neck, but as she died, an older tusker came flying at Jack, catching him a glancing blow with one of his razor sharp teeth that curled wickedly from the side of his snout. The searing pain in his side told Jack that he was in trouble, but he defended his kill and drove the Boar away. He returned to the sow and ate his fill before limping back to where his bike had been parked.
The damage was pretty serious. A large gash had been opened up on his flank and blood flowed freely from the wound.
The girl seemed to materialise out of thin air. Passing between two trees, she took a step or two towards him. He growled a warning for her to leave him alone.
“Shhh.” She hushed his growls and held her hands palm out, signalling her lack of intention.
Still he growled, but with less conviction. She stepped closer, closing the distance to a few feet. Jack could do very little about the girl. The pain from the wound was burning into him and he was feeling quite weak from the loss of blood.
Then she was crouching beside him. With a few strokes on his head, Jack succumbed to her touch and his resistance disappeared.
“Quite a nasty wound you have there.” She needlessly informed him. His blood was matting his coat, making the black fur even darker as it coagulated. He whimpered and fainted.
The eastern sky was already showing first light when Jack woke. Groggily, he looked around and found that he was lying on a wooden cot in a shack or shed. There was very little furniture, just a table and a chair. In the corner of the room stood a packing case up turned with a two-ring gas cooker.
He noticed the lightened sky through the grimy window and immediately tried to rise. The pain in his side stopped him in the effort; he flopped back down and whined a little, feeling very weak and dizzy.
She stirred and got up from some sacking she had been laying on to check on him. Expert hands checked the wound on his flank, testing the skin to see if it was scabbing over. His fur got in the way a little, but by being careful, she managed to see enough with out opening the wound again.
Jack lifted his head to look at the girl and knew he was about to transform and there was nothing he could do about it. He was too weak to get up, let alone run anywhere.
The window lightened more and the first rays filtered through the grimy window. His transformation complete, Jack looked at the girl, wondering what her reaction was going to be.
If she was shocked, she hid it well. Her expression was only quizzical as his fur withdrew into his pores, his snout shortened and ears shrunk. His four legs shimmered into two legs and a pair of arms, complete with hands and fingers. The change only took a few seconds. She stood, stock still as she witnessed it.
In human shape, the wound didn’t look quite so bad. It was deep and had bled quite a lot, but already, the werewolf healing process was underway and gradually, the wound was closing. He was still very weak and his usually exhaustion after the first night, was greatly magnified.
Jack broke the silence.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Why sorry? It had to happen. It’s not like I could go out or something and find a wolf replaced by a man is it? How long?”
“How long what?”
“Have you been this way. A werewolf?”
“Six months or so I think, time blurs.” He then told her the story of his life up to now and about the pack.
By the time he had told her everything, sunlight was streaming into the shack, Jack had to shield his eyes.
“That’s one of the down sides, less tolerance to strong sunlight. I had better get back and get some clothes on.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it through the forest. Although the tissue around the wound had almost completely healed now, the combination of light and the loss of blood would probably finish him off.
“I think you had better stay here. Am I in any danger Jack? I mean, will you attack me in wolf form?”
“Since my turning, I haven’t had any human company at all so I don’t know how I will react. I did say though, that as a wolf, I couldn’t stand the smell of human flesh, so I’m pretty sure you will be okay.”
It occurred to him that she hadn’t told him her name and he knew nothing about her at all. He had been so engrossed in telling her his life story, that it might have appeared as if he wasn’t interested.
“What do I call you?” He waited for her answer as she opened the door just enough to slip out.
“Denise. You can call me Denise or Den for short. I won’t be long. You rest here and try to sleep.”
He did sleep and only woke when she returned several hours later. It was the sound of his motorbike that woke him. His stomach growled to let him know that he was hungry.
She sidled through the door carrying two plastic bags and his clothes under her arm.
“Apart from the obvious, I didn’t know what werewolves eat so I bought some liver and hearts. Will that be okay?”
He laughed. It felt foreign to laugh, but her expression and the ignorance struck him funny. It was the first time he felt relaxed and could laugh since the night on the beach.
“I eat anything normally.” He told her. “It’s only when I change that my diet becomes specialised. Then it is a different hunger all together and has very little to do with needing food, but is no less urgent. Without a kill, my lupine side will die and so will the other side of me. Thanks all the same and I’m famished.”
Although he was still naked, he got up, completely healed and took the bags from her while she struggled to get through the door.
She cooked the liver while he dressed and handed him a plate of liver and baked beans with a slice of thick bread. It tasted like the best meal he had ever eaten and the tea completed the food.
“Denise.” He started. I know nothing about you, why you live in a hut in the middle of the forest or what you do. Tell me all about you.
They passed the afternoon with Denise telling him of her life to this point. She had been married to a guy who liked to beat her up when he had a drink and didn’t stick to their marriage vow of excluding all others. Their friends sided with him, believing her to be lying. After the separation, she found herself ostracized and shunned by the group of people she had though of as friends. It was as if he held them all in thrall.
Her resultant depression led to a breakdown and hospitalisation for two years. Since then, she had shunned people and preferred to live in the quiet seclusion of the forest tending injured animals or just watching nature go about its business. The medical people had signed her off permanently, so she had to visit town once a week to pick up her social security and shop for food. Other than Tuesday’s, she had no contact with the outside world and that was the way she liked it.
Jack had been feeling sorry for himself on and off since his turning, but after listening to Denise’s story, he realised he didn’t have it so bad. Sure it would be nice to have a couple of friends who lived a night life, but on the whole, he was okay and better than most.
As darkness descended, he changed. Denise opened the door and silently, he slipped out into the night, to hunt under a full moon.
After his appetite was satisfied, the black wolf returned, there was still several hours of moonlight left, but he found himself returning to the shack and the girl.
She stood at the door, looking out and wondering if he would return. Even from several yards away, he could smell her, could hear her blood coursing through her veins. He wanted her. He needed her as a friend, someone to belong to, someone to be with, a companion, a pack mate. He wanted her as a lover and approached on silent pads.
She saw him only when he was a few feet away, his black coat hiding him from her eyes and only appearing as a darker shade in the blackness of night. Wordlessly, she stepped backwards into the shack, leaving the door open for him to enter.
An unspoken, common need passed between them. They both needed someone and the strangeness of their lives restricted their hopes of finding a mate.
He sat on his haunches and watched her as she slipped out of the cotton dress she was wearing, aware of the rush of adrenalin saturated blood pumping through her veins. He could sense the electrical charges as her brain worked frantically, but even more obvious to his senses was her pheromone perfume.
Her undergarments were stepped out of and she stood, naked and proud in front of him, like a challenge and a dare in one figure. Her breasts were quite small with dark pink circles around erect nipples. Her stomach was flat with no extra fat and then her hip flared in a rounded curve that drew his eyes to her fur-covered mons. Her lithe and athletic legs trembled slightly while he visually inspected her.
Words were not needed. She sat on the edge of the wooden cot and opened her thighs. He rose from his sitting position and padded over to the waiting woman. As he approached, her willingness to mate was broadcast to his olfactory senses and triggered his own response.
As if drawn by a magnet, he nosed her sex, taking in the heavenly scent and savouring the excitement it caused his nervous system, enjoying the thrill as his own sex stiffened and felt the coolness of the night air.
Her taste was as he expected. Secretions from her instinctive reaction to what was about to happen, flooded his mouth and taste buds, heightening his own preparedness for sex. His tongue flicked out and in a fluid motion, took her anus, vagina and clit in one motion. It was as if she had been electrified; the response from her was so powerful. Somehow, she managed not to clamp her knees together as the pleasure of his tongue caused her to spasm and her back to arch.
Jack wide tongue searched for her opening and then, once found, searched to part her lips so that he could drink of her nectar the more deeply. He urgent lashes were rewarded when she opened like a blooming rose for him and he stroked her inner being with his lapping tongue. She came, coating his muzzle with her ambrosia and sighed her orgasm.
He paused and took her taste to the back of his throat his taste buds creating a memory of her and storing the information, never to be forgotten.
Jack stood on his hind legs between her parted knees and shuffled forward, his forepaws either side of her flawless alabaster white skin. She must have thought he was going to mount her because she raised her knees to create the perfect angle for his entry, but he only wanted her taste for the moment and lowering his mouth, he licked up her sweat that beaded on her smooth skin. Starting at her navel, he worked in lascivious strokes to her breasts where her heat was most concentrated at the fold under her mammary orbs.
She stroked his magnificent head, letting the coarse hair strand through her fingers as his tongue created mini whirlpools of sensation that rose and fell in curlicues of peeks. This felt like death, like she would never recover from the height she had attained, or if she did, the plummet back to earth would be a fatal fall.
Somehow, she raised her head to look at her lover. Their eyes met, his black and unfathomable while her hazel brown stared back in trusting love. Jack shuffled forward a little more, banging his cock against her mound. He kissed her mouth, which opened involuntarily, allowing his tongue to pass between her parted teeth. He kissed her deeply, tasting and savouring her saliva while massaging her own tongue, causing her to pant and, if it was possible, to become even more aroused.
Denise came again. A rush of pure love and emotion poured from her body, a rare moment when total control is relinquished and the body survives on no more than automotive reactions. For the first time, she knew ecstasy so profound. Without thought, without premeditation, her knees came up and her feet locked together around her lovers back in the classic missionary position. She drew him into her, forcing his cock into her wide-open sex. She propelled him into her body and felt him pass beyond her outer walls and musculature. He was buried deep into her body and was not going to be freed now, until they had completed the act to its final conclusion.
Jack thrust experimentally, finding that although she had him in a tight grip, he would be able to fuck into her. He started slowly, allowing his cock to almost withdraw completely, before slowly pushing back and letting her muscles ripple over his shaft. Neither of them could keep up the slow pace, their shared need far too strong for the niceties that perhaps they could share when the basic animal passion was sated.
Ina blur of movement, jack was pumping into her, driving his cock deeper and deeper until his balls were banging on her upturned buttocks. The urge to mate was so strong now, that any differences of species were quite forgotten. This was a union of souls and they both strove to consummate the meeting.
His knot began to swell inside her, the pace hardly diminishing making his withdrawal harder. As it swelled it rubbed against the hardened ridges of her G spot giving her an added sensation and causing her muscles to tighten on him.
Then, he was fully engorged, his knot fully swollen and locked into her, every forward motion driving his cock into her womb that opened for his chisel edged cock to pass.
Nearing exhaustion, Jack’s pace at last began to flag, to be replaced by a slower, but more intense thrust. His climax was approaching fast and then arrived in an explosion of sensation, lust and emotion that was all consuming. He howled, raising his head to open his windpipe. He howled to the moon of his triumph while his hot seed spurted into her wanting body.
He looked at her and found she was crying, sobs wracked her body causing her to milk his cock in a feral embrace, tears coursed from her eyes and over her temples, soaking her hair. He kissed her again and then licked the salty tears from her face knowing that she could not howl as he had, but had released the pent emotion in her sobbing.
Eventually, after they disengaged, he cleaned her sex, tasting the mingled fluids of their secretions. Then lay with her, curled into his body like a child as she slept.
Morning came in a blaze of light, but neither saw it. Neither saw the sunrise nor wanted to on those three nights each month. She was to attune to his clock and biorhythms in a union that lasted for nearly fifty years. Denise marketed Jacks work, claiming him to be a secretive artist who wished to remain unnamed. It worked and even added to his attraction for the buying public. He would never be a rich man, but his work sold well and they made enough to be comfortable as outsiders to the population.
Until she died of old age, regretful of the forced parting, but happy in the knowledge of their love. He buried her in the loam of the forest, knowing that she would want to put something back into the earth that had sustained her.
Jack lived for many lonely years after that, never aging, but always waiting for her to reincarnate. He knew that she would and it would only be a matter of time, because a love like theirs could never die. He stayed in the forest, living in the shack and on the anniversary of the full moon, feeding on the deer.
It was another fifty years before Jack met Denise again. Her name was different, but the love they shared was the same. She couldn’t remember any of their previous life together, but it matter not one whit.