The Wolf-King

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The full moon loomed high above the rune-etched standing stones which had been erected ages ago in this clearing in the forest. Gloomy pines stood tall all around the circle, ancient blue-green sentinels which caught the moon's rays, hoary like the snowfall that would not come until the passing of several more cycles of that pallid orb.

In the circle, five youthful maidens knelt, waiting for what they knew would come, afraid, though the emotion was muted and mingled with excitement—a low tension, knowing only one of them would be chosen. Still, they had been specially prepared for this night, embodiments of warm, budding sexuality untouched by man, the tribe's finest and most beautiful. They were naked, kept warm only by the gentle air of a summer night, and each had been meticulously bathed and anointed with special oils to make their scent pleasing to the one they were awaiting. All hair but that on their heads had been removed from their bodies with a specially prepared salve, leaving them as smooth and soft as when they had been born. Kneeling on the ground there under the moon, they waited quietly as they looked to the ground in front of them them, none speaking, each entranced in their own thoughts as they held themselves in an almost meditative state of waiting. Like many before them across the countless years, they knelt patiently, waiting for the wolf-king to appear, knowing that one of them was to be his chosen.

The wolf-king, too, knew that the time was nigh. So quietly they did not notice him at first, the one the maidens awaited stalked into the circle and cast a glance over them with his gleaming yellow eyes. Large and powerful, his body was coated with thick grey fur, and his face showed clearly his wolven ancestry. This magnificent beast was no mere dog, and he was large even for a wolf. The girls kept their heads lowered as they watched, not challenging the beast, but none entertained more than a fleeting thought of trying to run. This was what they had come for.

Circling around the five maidens, the wolf-king peered at them cautiously as his nose sniffed at the scent they had been anointed with, then his keen muzzle came near to their skin as he loped closer and began to inspect each offering. He nuzzled their hair and sniffed them back and front, judging each one in ways they did not know as they knelt still, tense as the moment of choosing drew near. One of the five would be this creature's mate tonight.

Haughty Shealeh with her knee-length platinum locks tensed as the great beast's black nose trailed over her soft bottom, but then passed on. She peered back over her shoulder cautiously at him, her soft lips pouting a bit as she gave her hips a wiggle, hoping to catch his attention once more, but the great wolf was already inspecting the twins. Leilen and Saeryn had shorter, golden hair, tumbling in curls over their shoulders as they stood in the proper position on all fours for the wolf-king to inspect them. Giggles shook their fertile bosoms as the beast's fur rubbed against them, and they could not help but wriggle as they looked back at him with soft brown eyes. The wolf-king seemed pleased by them, taking a few long whiffs of each one's scent, but he was not ready to choose yet. Moving on, he came to Cymelle, a petite redhead with the lightest peppering of freckles over her nose and loose waves in her light, silken hair. Once again, black nose inspected the girl's rear as she waited obediently, raising her rump slightly to him as her shining eyes peeked shyly over her shoulder. The great beast lingered upon her, but then padded onwards to slender Lacyla, her violet peering at the creature curiously from between stray locks of snowy white hair. "My Lord Wolf..." she whispered to him, quivering, small pearly teeth nipping her own full lower lip. She was a little afraid as the wolf-king approached, enough to draw a snort from the grey-coated beast as he passed her by, though she felt immediate disappointment afterward.

The great wolf-king turned, lit in the moonlight so that his fur seemed like silver, and cast his golden gaze around the circle once more before padding forward. Cymelle shuddered slightly as the wolf's nose returned to her and began to nuzzle at her soft, rounded bottom. His tongue lapped out, seeking for her sex, and a rush of shuddering excitement ran through her as the realization hit her. He was choosing her! Carefully she went on her hands and knees and moved forward across the soft ground, presenting herself to him as his nose sniffed her youthful body again. The other girls crept submissively forwards, a bit disappointed perhaps, but knowing what their place was to be in the ritual. Each settled on their knees around the wolf-king and his chosen, watching, but with downcast eyes.

Cymelle was in a rush of excitement, however. She had trained attentively for this night, memorizing what was expected in the ritual in the hopes that she would be chosen, and now she shuddered with nervous anticipation at the thought that she had actually been the one tonight. She remained kneeling, and the wolf moved in front of her and licked her innocent-looking high-cheekboned face, then stood waiting. Her rich blue eyes shimmered as she looked close at him, though she did not meet his gaze. He was quite close to her now, large and imposing now that she could see him up close. He was watching her with his keen yellow eyes, tail held high, moonlight shining off his rich pelt.

Looking lower, Cymelle's eyes widened as she saw that his shaft was exposed from its furry sheath and glistened in the moonlight, a glorious specimen of wolven virility. Rich red veins formed a network across the surface of that pink cone of hardened flesh, large to match the rest of his body. Cautiously, Cymelle approached him, crawling towards him on hands and knees. Taking the creature's massive erection tenderly in her slender hand, she kissed its tip lovingly, tasting the moisture there as she expressed her gratitude for being chosen as his mate this night. Then she gently wrapped her soft, plush lips about it and began to suck gently, moistening him and giving him the stroking pleasure of her tongue.

The wolf's eyes slowly closed, his mouth seeming almost to smile as the girl's lips wrapped around his thick shaft, a warm sigh escaping from him as the small hands of the other four girls began to caress his grizzled pelt, each watching with their eyes not meeting his own golden gaze. With a rumble, he backed out of Cymelle's mouth suddenly, pawing the ground eagerly. The signal was obeyed immediately, the girls guiding Cymelle down on all fours, her tender rump presented in mating position as the little ginger-haired beauty peered back over her shoulder at her new lover, her breaths growing heated as her heart raced.

On silent paws, the wolf-king approached her, his pointed muzzle poking between her legs. His hot tongue licked over the fresh, pink lips of her virgin sex, tasting her and making her gasp as it touched her clit for the first time. Slowly, she spread her legs to give him better access there, letting him lick eagerly as she felt herself begin to moisten. The sensation was somewhat strange to her, but she soon found herself enjoying it as the wolf's hot tongue caressed her sensitive areas, stimulating her little clit as her arousal increased. Once her nectar was flowing, the great wolf gave another eager rumble, and rearing up, his moonlit body mounted her, his eager shaft prodding against her nether lips.

The priestesses had taught the girls what to expect, and Cymelle braced herself as she felt the mighty wolf's shaft touch against her maidenhead, biting back her whimper as his powerful thrust broke through, taking her virginity and claiming her as his mate. The crystalline sheen of tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, but beyond that, she did not weep at the pain. He wasted no time in beginning to pump his strong hips into her, the warm tightness of her virginal sex around his bestial cock igniting his pleasure and the desire to plant his seed in the girl's womb. His hot breath flowed over her as he leaned his head close to hers and began to lick her ear as he worked his shaft back and forth within her tight passage. His fur caressed her bare back as he moved, surprisingly soft against her delicate skin, and her pert breasts swayed slightly with the rocking of her body from his movements.

It took her a moment to adjust to his eager motions, her full lips parted to gasp for breath, but slowly she began to feel the pleasure of it, through the lingering pain. With a soft purr, she shifted slightly beneath him, raising her rear more to give herself to him. Her rich red hair spilled forward over her shoulders in wild locks where the ribbons did not tie it, and she licked her lips, closing her eyes as she began to savor in the feeling of the magnificent wolf mating with her. Her friends' hands were feeling her breasts, but soon withdrew as the great wolf began to thrust more eagerly, keeping their distance now so as not to anger the beast. Now Cymelle was set apart from the others, her hair spilling to the ground as she felt her animal lover drive deep into her, his hot fur rubbing her back as she raised her bottom towards him, giving him an ideal angle to thrust into her.

She was completely at his mercy, mating passionately with that magnificent wolf, but she felt little shame at it. She had been trained for this, and she welcomed it, her tight little sex squeezing the beast's virile cock, eagerly embracing it as he mated with her. Girl and beast were joined in intense passion, moving as one, and she cried out in ecstasy, wanting nothing more than to pleasure him, to feel his seed gush into her hot and waiting womb. His thrusts were powerful, hungering for release as his muscles flexed under his dense coat to power his motions. It was something primal and heated, and she let out a louder cry of pleasure as she felt the mighty beast mating with her, his shaft filling up her sex with every thrust. She let herself slip into that feeling until all she was aware of was her union with her wolven mate and the hot passion of his movements as his powerful chest stroked her back with its soft fur, her own movements meeting him eagerly.

Time seemed to blur for girl and beast as they writhed in the throes of passion, each feeling a growing pleasure as their bodies intertwined in the lewd heat of the moment, blue eyes and gold lidding as each savored the sensations. "Oh, yesss..." Cymelle whispered, the wolf rumbling his pleasure in response. "Oh, oh yes..." Her soft bottom began to sway as she thrust back at him, meeting the pumping of his strong wolven hips to drive his shaft deep into her with every thrust, moans of pleasure in her throat with ever motion now, as her little pussy clenched tight around the wolf's shaft, eager to milk him dry.

Then, the base of his cock began to swell within her, tying his body to hers, and she cried out eagerly for what she knew was about to come. The creature's body tensed, and his hot seed began to rush forth. Wolf semen was flooding her as the pleasure she gave to the beast reached its peak, and she could feel his warm spurts gushing out deep within her. Trembling with the joy of having been chosen to receive the beast's holy seed, she moaned in ecstasy, feeling the fullness of his knot in her as his hot virile fluid poured into her womb. She let out a soft whine as he jumped down from her back to face away from her, his body still joined to hers for the duration of his climax. Already she missed the heat of him on her back and his feral thrusting within her. A warm flush touched her cheeks as she waited patiently for him, wishing to please him to the very end.

Finally, the wolf-king's knot subsided, his pleasure lingering as he peered over his shoulder at the girl he had just filled with his heated seed. Slipping free, Cymelle turned to place an adoring kiss on her lover's bestial shaft, then allowed him to lick her face hotly, meeting his tongue with her own. Then he slowly lead her into the forest, leaving the other four to return home, their duty now to leave food and gifts in the circle for the mate of the wolf-king. As Cymelle slipped through the dark forest behind her wolven lover, she thought upon what this night meant to her. The pact between human and beast was renewed, and the spirit of the great forest would once more tolerate the human presence for another term. She would be mate to the wolf-king for many moons hence, until a new wolf-king came to replace him, when there would be another ritual upon a moonlit night, as it has been since before memory.

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