Wolf In Sheeps Clothing

Story by Cederwyn Whitefurr on SoFurry

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Wolf In Sheep's Clothing (Chapter One)

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

All Rights Reserved

January, 2015

I wish to make it formally known, the beautiful and delightful Miss Pegasus https://misspegasus.sofurry.com/ was responsible in part, for putting this idea into my head, letting go of the reins and letting me run with it - much love to her for the ideas, she's truly my rock when I need it :)

Creeping stealthily, flickering from one patch of shadow to the other, the wolf lifted his nose from the ground - the sussurant breeze bringing his sensitive nose the scent of fresh meat, blood, bone...the primal urges singing in his mind and nerves, the scent was intoxicating, overpowering and..the chase, the run down and the bleating screams before they were silenced - and finally - the triumphant kill - these were the thoughts his mind swirled with in its primitive fashion, as he crouched lower - his silvery brown fur trembling as his muscled tightened like iron bands. His golden eyes were locked on a fat, heavy with fawn eye - and drool slavered from his muzzle as he could almost already taste the fur, flesh and blood...so close - a few dozen yards away - the stupid sheep having no idea he was within striking range... closer... closer...then with an explosion of raw, primal force, he erupted like a cyclone and charged at the Ewe...

*

He yelped and whined, as he felt the back of his skull cracked with a half-opened hand, the sharp hooflets scratching across the back of his head.

"Stop daydreaming!" Come a stern, authoritative voice, which gentled as he whined like a chastised pup and hung his head, ears flattening.

His golden eyes swivelled to look at the stern, matronly gaze of the humanoid Ewe who stood before him, dressed in a plain, dirt streaked smock and a ragged edged hem. Her cloven hooves were dusted with drying mud and manure, not that she seemed too bothered by the scent, as she slung a satchel over her shoulder and turned her slitted gaze on him. He whined like a puppy, before his muzzle flopped open and his broad, long tongue rolled out and hung to one side, as he stretched and tipped his head over the end of the bed and gazed upside down at her, a unmistakable smile spreading across his furred lips and long tail thudding against the deer skin blanket that covered the crude cot.

"Aww...I was having the most wonderful dream - " Grunted the wolf, his mischievous smile broadening, as he rolled back over and grunted, then lifted himself up onto his front paws and looked between his legs. "Oh..."

Tapping her cloven hoof, the Ewe stared at him, then shook her head and pulled her hood up.

"I swear, if you put half your energies into gathering our crops before winter - and not your fantasies - we'd have the root cellar filled to bursting in a day."

Rolling off the cot and dropping to all fours, the Wolf hung his head, giving her a shy, timid look, before he laughed and shuddered, before his bones began to snap and crackle, flesh rippling and fur convulsing, as he dropped to his knees and in a few moments, a naked human stood up, flexing his muscles and twisting his neck until the vertebrae crackled.

"Mmm, better - " He grunted, then scratched his testicles and smirked. "Come on little Ewe - a quick romp before we start the day?"

he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her back against his hard, taut muscular body, one hand sliding into the shift she wore and cupping a soft furred breast, the thumb playfully rubbing over the nipple, as he peeled back the hood with his teeth and nibbled her neck. Instantly, she moaned and tilted her head back, overcome with the sensations, before a mischievous smile curled her pale lips and her left paw snapped down and back, then took a strong grasp on his scrotum and squeezed intently - but not too hard.

"No..." Annabelle growled, as she tightened her grip.

"Woah...okay then!" Petrov sniggered, as he felt tears squeezed from his eyes. "Hey, careful there my love - they're attached to me..."

Annabelle ground her hips teasingly against Petrov's groin, hearing him moan and gasp, before she released him and turned about, looking up into his eyes and tapping his chest with her large hoof-like paws.

"We don't have long until winter - " She admonished him sternly, cocking one paw on her hip and continuing to chastise him. "Crops need to be harvested and gathered, feed set aside for the livestock...and you want too - "

Annabelle looked down, then Petrov blushed, trying rather ineffectually to cover the erection he had with his hands.

"Damn wolves...you've got a one track mind - " Annabelle snorted through her nostrils, as her eyes narrowed and she pulled the hood back up and stomped out of their small timber hut.

"Damn wolves indeed - " Petrov grunted, as he began struggling into torn and rough homespun leggings, tying them at the waist. "She didn't say that last night..."

*

Petrov and Annabelle busied themselves around their small farmstead, she milked the cow, whilst he spent much of the day with a scythe, cutting the chest high wheat. It was hard, long and backbreaking labour, but he was well used to it, and enjoyed the late autumn sun shining down on his naked back - feeling the trickles of sweat that brought temporarily relief, before he grinned and watched Annabelle chasing the chickens out of their vegetable patch.

*

Hours later, as the sun began to set in the west, Petrov stretched and scratched idly at the annoying insect bites he was covered with, but he felt comfortable enough - his body glistened in the golden light which turned a orange red as the sun set lower, and he could hear Annabelle muttering in the shack, the sound of her chopping and the occasional clang as a cast iron pot was dropped by accident. A string of curses that made even him blush erupted from the shack, and he paused, before smiling and shaking his head slowly. For a Ewe, Annabelle had a temper - possibly from her Scottish ancestry - and Petrov upended a pitcher of water from the rain barrel over himself, sweeping away the worst of the dust, chaff and sweat, before his mind turned to pleasing things - his nostrils flaring as he caught the first scents of cooking dinner, and he felt his stomach grumble appreciatively.

So distracted was he, he didn't hear the soft bleating, then a fuzzy head bumped against the back of his knees. He blinked, then turned about, seeing the adult Ewer who stood there, gazing up adoringly at him, before he playfully butted his thigh.

"You shouldn't like me," Petrov whispered to her, as he crouched and gave her an affectionate cuddle, then scratched her behind the ears. "I'm a big, bad wolf - I'd eat a cute little Doe like you..."

Another crash come from the shack, and more language that'd curdle the milk in a cows udder erupted forth.

"Mistress is having a bad day - " Petrov confided in the Ewe, who gazed at him with her dark brown eyes, then rubbed her head against his chest and bleated again. "Now, really, you know what I am - if I didn't have better control, you'd be the first tasty little snack I'd..."

Petrov grinned, then ran his fingers lightly along her flanks and under her belly, obediently, the Ewer slightly crouched and bleated loudly as he tickled her udder and teats playfully, watching as the Eye's body trembled and her back legs began sliding down towards the ground.

"Oh, you're a persuasive one - " Petrov smirked, then lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. "Go on, you know where..."

releasing the Ewe, who looked back over her shoulder, she trotted off into the barn, and Petrov looked around before he followed her, slowly untying the bow that held his leggings closed.

"A wolf's job is never done..." Petrov chuckled quietly, before pulling the door closed.

It took him a few moments to adjust to the gloom inside the barn, and the insistent bleating of the Ewe drew his attention, but he gazed over the old mare who stood in her stall, her ears pricking forwards as she seen him and she nickered a greeting to her owner. Petrov smiled and rubbed her nose, checking her water trough and adding a handful of Lucerne to her feed bucket, then hanging it where she could browse at her convenience.

Again, the soft bleat of the Ewer grew more insistent, and he rolled his eyes, giving the mare a friendly pat on the neck, before he walked to the back of the barn and dragged over a short hay bale.

"Come here little one - " Petrov smiled, as he pointed to a spot just before him.

Flagging her long uncut tail, the Ewe obediently trotted over, then stood gazing at Petrov, who smiled and stroked her cheeks with his fingers.

"Truly...you know me, you know my scent...what I am - yet you're unafraid of me - maybe - just maybe...its because we hand-reared you, you know no different - how - dangerous..." Petrov grunted, as he picked her up and stood her on the hay bale, then watched as she obediently knelt. "You don't know what a wolf would do, to a vulnerable, tender young Ewe like you..."

She didn't understand most of what he said to her, but she adored her master and mistress both - her master most of all - for what pleasures he often shared with her. Petrov leaned close, inhaling her scent - the beautiful scent of the lanolin in her soft wool, the quickening breath - and as he laid his hand on her chest and gently stroked, he shivered - instincts of the Wolf awakening within him, as he felt her thudding heart.

"You don't know how badly I fight - " Petrov whispered, as he shuddered and visibly fought the urges. "A part of me wants to make you bleat and squeal - another - a... violent, feral part of me, wants to tear your throat out and devour your flesh..."

Once again, the young Ewe just bleated softly and nuzzled his hands, completely oblivious to what her master was telling her, she didn't care.

"Now..." Petrov grinned, the gleam of gold flecking his blue eyes, as the Wolf aspect started to dominate. "I know what you want, enjoyable as it is for both of us..."

Petrov paused, glancing about before he wandered away and returned, his hand holding some sticky, dripping goo which he sniffed and chuckled.

"Alas poor piggy - he made some wicked lard..." Petrov laughed weakly at his bad joke, before he pondered and knelt, placing one hand on the Ewe's back the other he flicked away the worst of the large, using what remained to lightly coat his penis with, before he nodded in satisfaction. Carefully, he knelt a little higher and wrapped three fingers about the base of his penis - before he teasingly rubbed against the tight folds of the Ewe. She bleated in frustration, her tail flagging faster, as she looked back at him - then Petrov grunted as he flexed his hips and felt himself slip into her hot body.

"Gods be damned - " Petrov hissed, as the tendons in his neck stood out, and he gripped the Ewe by the hips, pushing her down against the hay bale. "I don't know who is warmer..."

She bleated and squirmed, yet didn't resist her human master, as he eased himself forwards inside until he felt his groin pressed firmly against hers and she shuddered, before turning her head to look back over her shoulder at him - her look of love and trust in him was undeniable - as was the unnatural pleasure he was bringing for her.

"Oh yes - " Petrov gasped, as he dismounted again, then rubbed his penile head against her tightly puckered anus - before driving himself deep and feeling her flinch and her loud bleating - but she was accustomed to her strange Ram and his even stranger breeding - even if she didn't like this type much.

Petrov dismounted slowly, savouring the pleasures, before he shivered and again mounted her - this time properly, and he gripped her woollen flanks tight before he began bucking like a thrusting wolf - sliding himself almost completely out and the forward thrust of his hips causing her to grunt with each almost feral thrust.

He held himself in check as long as he could, but it only took a dozen thrusts, before he arched his hips forwards, spine curving into a C shape and his fingers dug into the Ewe's wool as he panted and moaned in exstacy, feeling the orgasm crushing him like he would an ant beneath a boot. His Ewe partner twitched and quivered, feeling his hot seed implanted deep inside her, but she remained still and calm until he moaned and fell forwards, once again pushing her against the bale as he panted like a dog and trembled, sweat pouring from his body and the unmistakable golden flecking of his eyes growing more and more pronounced.

"That..." Petrov gurgled, as he pushed himself back to his feet, his wilting penis sliding from the Ewe with a slurp. "No matter how many times I breed you - you never fail..."

"Petrov, you overgrown pup!" Come a loud call. "Dinner is ready, and it won't stay hot forever!"

"..always the way - " Petrov sighed, as he walked around to the Ewe's head, his penis swinging like a hammer between his thighs, a few errant dribbles spattering the dirt and straw covered floor. "I'll make it up to you - I promise..."

With a snort, the Ewe merely jumped down off the bale, then her bag legs quivered as she shuddered from ridged nose to long fluffy tail, then wandered over to the empty stall for a drink of water.

*

Petrov doused himself in water again, before he hurriedly tied his leggings closed and pushed open the barn door, closing it behind him and dropping the plank that acted like a crude lock. Wiping water and sweat from himself, he moved with purpose to the door of their cottage and flung it open, marching in like he was the king of a castle, trying to intimidate his subjects. Annabelle paused, her mouth falling open, before she peered at him over the old, cracked spectacles that perched on the bridge of her muzzle. Before he could sit, or even speak, she snorted, then shook her head and resumed sipping the vegetable stew in her bowl.

"Couldn't wait, could you?" Annabelle's light mocking tone reached him, the barest hint of displeasure in it.

"I'm a growing Wolf - " Petrov replied, then hung his head and gave her a submissive, puppy-dog look, before he reached over and placed his large, broad and calloused hand over his partners, then squeezed it gently. "A minor snack - compared to the main meal, I'll enjoy with an adorable, beautiful Ewe later..."

Annabelle laughed softly, trying to act stern and annoyed, but the smile that crinkled her cheeks gave away her true feelings - in a way - she was glad that Petrov - relieved - his excess libido at times, whist she did not particular approve of how he done this - because, sometimes, the Wolf got too dominant in him, and he was a fantastic, gentle and considerate lover - but there were times he frightened her - and only once - had he gone one step too far..."

Blinking, Petrov froze, then the gold washed from his eyes as he reached over and took both Annabelle's paws in his hands, then squeezed them lovingly. He didn't need the Wolf instincts to smell the scent that come from her - or to know what it meant - and he comforted her with just his hold, as finally, she smiled shyly at him and resumed sipping her soup, whilst he swirled his around for a bit - inhaling the scent of chicken, and the last, he was sure, of their heavily salted beef.

"I'll have to go hunt again - " He whispered conversationally, as he raised his crude wooden spoon and sipped the soup. "If I'm not mistaken - "

"You're not - " Annabelle replied, before pushing away her bowl, her hooflets clicking against the side of it. "That really is the last of any of our salted meat - Gods know how we're going to survive winter - and I know you hate hunting because -"

Annabelle's voice trailed off, as she shivered visibly. Petrov sighed, before he stood and walked around behind her, then cradled her upper body against his chest and rubbed her belly.

"You and I know, I can control him - I've never - ever - let him off the leash I keep on that side of my nature my dear, sweet Ewe, I'd never forgive myself if one day - something happened and I ...he...broke those chains I bind him with, and he got loose." Petrov replied, as he nibbled delicately at one of her long, floppy ears. "I go hunt - you lock this door - and never - ever - open it, even if you know its me...until four days past the rise of the moon - you know our secret knock....even still..."

Petrov disengaged his hold on her, walking to the back of their small cottage, and returning shortly with a leather scabbard - the hilt was steel, faded and pitted, the leather grip worn with thinning leather bindings, but when he tugged the handle, the long sword hissed out, the silvery glow reflecting the orange from the crackling fire.

"You know what this is - " Petrov told her. "You know how I got it - and you know how to use it...and what it would do, if you did..."

Annabelle shivered, then placed her paw and its two fingers over the hand of her lover, then made him slide the sword back in to its sheath.

"It will never come to that, I won't allow it!" Annabelle stammered, then cleared her throat and stood, the inner strength of her spirit shining through, as she began poking his chest with her short, blunt hooflets - and actually driving him backwards under her growing anger. "You hear me, you overgrown pup? He belongs to me! Only me - you may have control at times, but Petrov loves me - and I love him, so either learn your place...or that sword will be the least of your worries!"

Petrov blinked, rarely seeing the anger and steel in his lover come out like this, as he felt himself backed into the wall as she continued beating at him with her fists, the tears that spattered his chest were hot, yet still her anger grew as she stood pressed against him, her lips curling back in a predatory like snarl as she stared up at him.

"Wow..." Petrov whispered, his eyes wide like dinner plates, before he reached up and lightly stroked Annabelle's cheeks, feeling the tears staining the pale fur. "I - I've never seen you so...vibrant..."

"Keep that bastard on a leash..." Annabelle snarled, before she twisted away from him and stormed towards the door, slamming it hard enough to make the nearby shelves rattle.

Standing there, bewildered and confused, shocked by the sudden, almost bestial rage Annabelle displayed, he looked down, and shuddered as he forcibly unclenched his hands - noticing how the nails had lengthened and dug into the flesh of his palms - leaving distinctive wolf-like claw marks...

To Be Continued...