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Anthro Sex Squad Story 2 - Winfred's Story

By Killenor

Arc 1 - Origins

Chapter 3

The hand that gripped Winfred's shoulder as she emerged surprised her, as did the hand that clamped around her mouth. Powerful arms jerked her around and forced her eyes to meet those of the Grand Male. She knew there was no point in struggle; he would end her misery now and forever.

"Be calm my daughter," he said with authority, "I am not going to harm you now."

The Grand Male loosened his grip and let Winfred slip to the ground. He paced around her as if considering what to do next.

"I have freed you, Winfred. You may now pursue a real life." he said slowly, "You can go now into the wide world and make your own way. Such is ever to be the fate of strangelings"

"What is in the wide world?" Winfred said suddenly as her curiosity returned.

"Such things as you can never imagine in a place like this. Waters that stretch further than the eye can see in any direction, rocks larger than the tallest of trees, cities where folk of all kinds live so close that they even live atop one another. Wonders and horrors and riches and dreams exist there, all waiting to be made. The folk you would meet are so different that each one is a strangeling to the next. It is the place that is not suited for the normal ones of our kind; it is too different in so many ways."

"How am I to know this world? How can I live in such a place?" Winfred whispered in awe.

"Listen to the folk, find your own way. Such a world it is that you need not be a great hunter or crafter to live or be great. Some live and are fed solely by the strength of their arm, the beauty of their song, or the depth of their faith."

"Faith?"

"Aye, in the world there are beings so great that they cannot even be seen. There are such creatures who grant favors to those who know how to speak to them. I have seen men move whole mountains with their faith. I offer you the ability now to go and make your way in a world of gods and men."

"Men? Mountains?"

"Ask no more questions. You now can do as I once did and travel the world. You are hardy and resourceful and intelligent, you will be beautiful when you are grown, and thus, you do not belong here with us. You cannot return, for only males can ever gather a settlement, but believe when I say that you will never want to come back anyway. This place is pale and hollow compared to the wide world."

Winfred let the words sink in. As her father turned to leave she could think of only one more question, something she felt she had to know.

"Father?" she said plainly, "what is your name?"

"My father gave me his enemy's name just as I gave you mine. He was a strangeling as I was and you are. My name is Eld'yareth-grethnost, the name of a great dragon my father battled."

Winfred crinkled her nose at the appalling name. She knew then that her banishment was complete and that he would say no more. As one, they turned their backs and walked away, knowing they would never see each other again.

***

Hreugh chuckled to himself as he shifted the sack onto his other shoulder. Those stupid wolverine-folk, running off like that. He had free reign of the party once they ran off after that delicious little youngling. Only the sorrowful mother remained, oblivious to the grizzled old badger that was having his pick of the gifts left upon the Grand Male's dais.

When he reached his burrow, Hreugh's mind was filled with the satisfaction of a heist well done. Tossing his sack onto the crude bed he kept, he began to sift through his ill-gotten goods. With each piece that he picked over and admired, his thoughts turned to the one gem he couldn't acquire... a new, young plaything.

A shame, he thought, that he didn't have the time to tap that mother's sorrow when those idiotic wolverines chased her daughter off. Strangeling they called her. A mother losing her daughter, oh what power it held for those who could use it. The youngling was very sweet too, he thought, barely beginning to blossom and quite pretty. She would have broken so well, the pain would have fueled him to no end!

Thinking about the youngling distracted him from his little trove. Quite aroused now, his hand strayed to his now erect member. He gripped himself hard, thinking how tight someone so small would be, the pain of his first intrusion, the magic he would weave to make her give herself to him and to love the pain. Pain and sex were his mystical fuel and oh, what power such a thing as her would unlock.

He squeezed harder now as he stroked, not caring that his claws slid from their sheaths in his fingers, not feeling the agony as they scratched his flesh. He only felt the dark joy brewing inside him as he imagined ripping into young flesh. His ministrations became frantic as sensation and imagination built into one unholy crescendo. His muscles clenched and his seed was sent sailing across the room to splatter into a corner.

Hreugh came to his senses. He noticed his labored breathing, he noticed the pain. His hand came away, sticky from his cock. For a moment, he could only stare at the blood that now coated his fingers, his own blood. Then he noticed his gouged member which still bled. He flinched as he gingerly touched his sensitive and torn flesh. Anger built as he realized he hadn't the magic nor the resources to properly bind his wounds.

Blasted wolverine-folk, he thought, it was their fault. He would think of some way to make them suffer... but first there were other things to attend to. He walked to the corner where his load had previously been shot. He rustled about in the pile, selecting one of the rags there. With a tug, it came free; bringing along with it the upper section of the skeleton that still wore it. Hreugh's gaze met with the crusted, empty sockets of the rabbit-girl skull that remained upon the spine, memories of breaking her creeping back into his mind. Her pain had been delicious.

With a cruel smile, he ripped the rag from her, crushing her ribcage and scattering the bones back onto the pile of his former victims. A chuckle escaped his lips as he bound his sundered member with the tatter of cloth. His chuckle turned into a psychotic laugh as he gathered a few necessities and strolled out his door.

He would need to get a new rag after all.

***

A shift in the wind... that was all that was felt, the only sign of danger. Eyes wide, the feral-hare stood from the grass. Its nose twitched, straining in vain to catch the scent of a predator as its ears scanned for any disturbance.

Nothing.

This hare was no fool. It had survived more than six seasons on its wits alone. It knew when a predator was about. There was no mistaking it, something was near. It was watching...

SNAP!

The break of a twig, the hare bolted for cover, dodging and weaving through the tall grasses. Stones flew from the bushes, each one attempting to crack its skull. The predator finally gave chase, bursting from those same bushes, but it was already too late. The hare disappeared into the undergrowth and was gone from sight.

Winfred growled in despair and angrily threw her last rock to the ground. With one of the more colorful curses she had learned from the elder females, she stomped back into the bushes. There was no chance that she would catch anything in this glade NOW. She would just have to try somewhere else, but that had been how it was for DAYS. As she reached the spot where she had laid her meager possessions, she caught the scent of something... foreign. Someone else had been right where she had waited! Something else cost her to lose her lunch!

Now very nervous, the young wolverine made her way back to a hollow she knew was safe. Having scouted it out a couple days ago, she had claimed it as there was no other dominant scent. There, she should be safe enough from whatever had been stalking her.

The problem was, she was young, she was inexperienced, and she simply didn't notice the deposits of nahcolite that helped to disguise the odors of the cave.