Just an Old Legend Ch. 07

There was a short pause while his tongue licked her as though he was savoring the taste for a moment, but the moment passed as he grunted and sealed his lips to her as best he could to suck noisily several times and she moaned when she felt the tip slide along between her inner and outer lips.

Helen felt a loud groan escape her when she felt the pressure of that heated tongue lick her from front to back again and again. She was wet in places where no one had ever thought to explore her body before. She thought it might be a strange last thought to have, but now realized that she was enjoying this. She wondered how long she had left to live now.

The beast didn't seem to ever want to stop his assault on her and Helen found her desperation giving way to wanton desire as she bucked and whimpered feebly in his grasp. She hung with her face and forearms on the couch while he did what he wanted to her bottom end. Gradually, she couldn't help herself and she reached for his testicles to caress them gently. There seemed to be a strange association that she wondered about, but when she touched his shaft and heard his deep groan, the first of her orgasms ripped into her. There were others which followed quickly as he sped up his assault even more, but the first was the strongest and she would have hung gasping, but he gave her no rest.

She gasped anyway for the oxygen as she quivered. The rest of her orgasms, she just accepted and shuddered as she rode them.

He slowly let her down onto her front and she crawled away a little as she listened to his breath. It came to her that she was pleasing him and it gave her a hope that he would stop now, but now it wasn't what she really wanted. She didn't care anymore about anything else. She was what she now wanted to be more than anything.

He looked at her wet haunches glistening in the moonlight and then watched spellbound as they began to rise before him, She was looking back at him, and he saw only desire there as she pushed herself back.

"Please," she whispered, "Please?"

He seized her hips to pull her back the rest of the way and mounted her. She felt his sheath press itself against her clitoris so that she groaned, feeling the sound right through her ribs. To his slight surprise, she cried out in joy and bucked hard against him. He timed his thrusts to match what she wanted. "Please Ion, pull me harder. I love you so much."

He told her only once how he loved her and those were the last intelligible words between them for a long while as they grunted and slapped together for long minutes. The way the cushions forced her to kneel, Helen didn't think she could hold herself up like this much longer and was a bit surprised when she felt him pushing her forward. At first she resisted, but his strokes lifted her right off her knees as he slapped against her. She got the message after only a few like this to crawl forward after she realized that if her slammed her hard like this when he really meant it, he'd be hitting her cervix.

He got onto the couch himself then and forced her hips down a little and managed to bend and position himself as his clawed hands stroked her softly, though the ribbed pads at the ends of his fingers scratched her slightly if he forgot himself. She felt him pull out only a little from the angle of this position, but it changed nothing of what she felt. It even brought his sheath against her nub even more in a different and very delicious way.

As he rutted into her, she felt his hands shift until he held her hip with his left hand and brought his right under her ribs as he leaned to rub and squeeze her nipple.

Helen screamed at the feeling which flashed in a heartbeat to her sopping sex, but it was only a gesture in passing. The gesture worked, since she pressed herself back against him to present her opening in the new and better angle. His next motions told her that what he'd done had been calculated to have just this effect.

Her breasts were now in solid contact with the material of the couch and his right arm carried through with the motion that he'd intended all along as he reached farther under her in an almost painful, sudden way to amaze Helen when his hand turned palm upward to grip her left shoulder securely from below. She felt him become much more urgent and she mewled her encouragement, though he was beyond listening now.

Helen cried out in slightly painful surprise when his head appeared right next to her own and he clamped those jaws onto her shoulder. She could smell herself on the fur of his snout. He grunted and growled with every rapid thrust now and Helen loved it, this show of primal lust.

She turned her head to see his left eye regarding her and she hoped that she now wore the wanton and lust-filled expression on her face that she felt. She felt him harden inside her, and knew that it wouldn't last much longer. The thought made her a little sad. She had no idea how long this had gone on for, but she didn't want it to ever stop.

"Fuck me, Ion," she whispered in between her tiny gasps, "fuck me, oh, I need this so much."

His growls grew more insistent as he held her firmly with his teeth so that she couldn't move or be anything but the vessel for his seed when it came. She felt him harden even more and then he stiffened while she gasped in joy, feeling his contractions. For some reason it was important to her that she could please him when he was like this and she'd done it. When he'd almost stopped, she bucked weakly on, trying to coax more from him, "More," she moaned softly, "I want everything, Ion. Help me, I can't push much more."

It really didn't matter. He'd been in total control over her body's position for a long while now. He still guided all of their motions and continued as she did her best to maintain her position. She moaned and begged each time that his contraction began anew.

When he felt that he'd given everything, he released her and gently pushed her away while he kept his hands on her hips to guide her down gently onto her side. He climbed onto the couch and stretched out against her back. When she'd gotten some of her breath back, she pressed back to fit herself to him.

He told her that he loved her as he held her gently.

"I know," she sighed softly, "I really love you Ion. I was so scared at first, but it felt so good after a while, and then I realized that you wouldn't ever hurt me. You didn't bite me, but you held me fast so that I'd get everything. I really loved that," she gasped quietly.

"Now I know what I wanted to find out about how you are like this. The problem is that I really liked it."

She chuckled quietly, "I've always been really assertive in bed a lot of the time. I guess that I'm warning you by telling you this, but when you did that to me, I just became your happy bitch right then." She reached back to stroke his thigh, "It's kind of a new experience for me."

He leaned over her to slowly kiss her, pulling her against himself so that he could wrap her in his arms the way that she liked. She reached to pull his face closer for another kiss, "I'm so in love with my wolf."

-----------------------

3rd level down,

A renovated large bomb shelter.

Bucharest, Romania.

She walked down the corridor in a bit of a foul mood. It was due to a couple of things and one of them was her own approaching heat. Coming into heat could be a wonderful and joyous time to be a female if one had a male to love with. It was a time to just give in to the purest of drives with the perfect male for one's heart, a time to spend in bliss and happy copulation. A time to make whelps.

She grimaced. At least that was how she'd heard that it could be.

She wouldn't know.

In her situation there just couldn't be a more useless function.

She knew of many unattached females who looked forward to this time just for the wanton sensuality of carefree and unattached rutting. Once you'd found the one for yourself, then the two of you would set out on a long love together, and forever if it was possible, mating for life in the way of all wolves.

But before you'd met the one, well ...

Birth control had given she-wolves the same freedom enjoyed by millions of human females, but with the heightened primal drive that powered the she-wolf of today ...

She stopped that line of thought right there.

All that it had ever done for her was to make her murderous.

She hated this when it happened, her body gearing itself up to mate and reproduce. She was sure that during these times, there were suddenly more nerve endings all over her body than there were normally because of the way that little things felt to her then. She became hypersensitive.

She remembered eating dinner in her apartment the last time, and reaching out to pick up a letter there on the table. The motion caused her breasts to graze the edge of the table and the sensation had almost driven her mad in a second. She wanted to back away from the edge. She wanted to repeat the motion, hoping to repeat the thrill at the same time.

She'd hung her head sadly for a minute, and then she'd gotten up and thrown everything – her dinner, the plate, and even the cutlery into the garbage and done the only thing that she could do. She was in misery and dragged her lustful body to lie in the cold, dry bathtub as a human woman since she couldn't trust herself to keep quiet as what she really was. She was so ashamed at what she did then and wanted no one else in the apartment block to hear any sounds that she might have made as she masturbated quietly, even in her wet heat with tears running the whole time imagining what it might have been like to have the hands of the man that the boy had one day grown into loving her body.

It was another thing that she'd never known.

When she was finished, she sat up and turned on the shower – full cold – and crawled to her bed to weep.

Now? Here? She didn't need the betrayal that her body was playing at.

And this, she thought as she turned a corner on her way to her superior's office, this being summoned for a psych evaluation – at a time such as this – by all the saints in Heaven, she thought, somebody just might pay the supreme penalty today and more than one if too many others crossed her path.

It irked the hell out of her, and she could barely contain her fury – and she hadn't even arrived yet.

The federation now spanned much of the globe with affiliations to many of the most established clans and packs and more were being led to their standard every month. All of that had been born in a lonely forest glade in between two mountains in Transylvania when eleven of them had met almost by accident and begun to talk among themselves about their position and circumstances. The talk had lasted for days, and some broke off to hunt, coming back to lay down the bodies of deer or whatever else they'd found so that everyone could eat and the talk could continue.

They were for the most part turned individuals – the lowest form of werewolf, regarded as classless dregs by the snobby and elitist established packs of purebloods. But there was one important difference. Aside from one, they'd all been turned by the same lone werewolf or one of his "descendants", they'd discovered. Whether it was by design or defect, all of them were very powerful, much much more powerful than the turned ones usually are. The reason for that secret hadn't been understood until only recently in their laboratories.

But back in the glade, that day, they decided that to survive and – it had been a feint longing then – to prosper, they'd have to make changes. They resolved to act as a proper species, supporting each other and elevating themselves, - actually thinking before they acted - hunting singly or in small groups and then sharing everything, and all the time thinking of ways to do more than suffer the long agony of baseless survival in a land where they were known from the beginning – where men had learned to hunt them down long ago.

It had taken decades.

But it had become the Kaze – to borrow the Nipponese term for wind. The new wind. Now they had wealth and influential power. They had the wherewithal to fund research, to exploit their abilities for the common good, and as always, to drive the new wind farther and faster every day. Nothing could stop the wind.

The goal to survive with dignity had long ago been met. They now had paramilitary capability as well, for one couldn't just hold up one's hand and express a desire to join the federation, though that was often how it began if a solitary individual was located, contacted and shown what was possible for them all. One could join and be welcomed as a brother or a sister, but part and parcel of that was a stint with their own paramilitary forces for evaluation, training and practice, male and female equally. Because along with their ascension and gains had come new threats – and from other werewolves, not from man.

She smiled. It was to be expected and it had been planned for in every case.

They were rocking the boat on purpose, upsetting the old ways with a vengeance. Many of the wolf-lords with a brain had allied their clans willingly, seeing the advantages. Some had sworn to wipe the Kaze from the earth. Those ones had only set their own packs back on hard times, trying themselves to survive the aftermath. Those ones had died for their haughtiness and the survivors – the ones left behind, and most especially the young and small ones, those had been welcomed and cherished for what they were and most warmly. The federation was just that – an affiliation of groups based on the common good with a central leadership – not the good of the old ways that rewarded only the top echelons by accident of their high births. You proved your worth or you didn't lead. Done.

The dream was shifting now. It was only just beginning, but some could even see a day when their kind would not have to live in the shadows and need to remain undetected by humanity. A day was coming when they could emerge and tell mankind that there were new neighbors who wished to coexist peacefully in plain sight. It might require that they have their own homeland.

It might require a war.

But if it came to that, well, that's what would have to be in order to establish themselves. They were made up of many now. Full-bloods, half-bloods, turned ones, and yes, even some humans, all striving to promote a democratic and equal society for themselves. And all of this had begun one cold and rainy day among the dripping trees of a forest by eleven homeless, wet and bone-chilled individuals.

She felt a bit better to think in these terms. She felt herself to be a part of the thing that was the Kaze again. She was one of the negotiators - when she had to be - during the first stages of contact with the other packs and clans as they were approached. The federation always approached openly and was most often rebuffed with sneers the first time.

But never the second time.

Even so, new affiliates were welcomed and it was always said that they shared the bounty of their feast as equals. It took some getting used to for outsiders. That was one of the reasons that she was often the first and second round negotiator.

Because she was good at it.

Because she was the best huntress.

Because she was one of the eleven.

Thinking of it like that, she squared her shoulders and strode forward.

She knocked on the door of her old friend and boss and entered at the sound of his welcome. Of the three of them in the room, she alone was in human form because of the time of her cycle. She preferred it this way. Micha sat at his desk with another individual, a youngish pureblood. She had nothing against anyone. Micha's lovely mate Jenna was a pureblood as far as that went. But this one had two things about him that did nothing more than piss her off. He had that thinly veiled sneer of superiority, for one thing. To someone who had often seen those sneers only because she'd had weak and misshapen legs as a child, it was something very difficult to let pass.

And he was a psychologist, for another. To her that meant nothing more than a self-serving, smooth-talking parasite who claimed to have a higher purpose – and somehow never did anything like honest work.

She stood and suffered through the introductions, and this Stefan started right in on her, questioning her methods and motives and how she'd dealt with one of her last kills and why she'd chosen that route.

She drew a breath and sighed. So this was how it was going to be, she thought. Well if there was one thing that she was good at, she smiled to herself, it was ruining someone's perfect day.

In the middle of the fifth paragraph from his notes, she's swept everything onto the floor – notes, pen, folders and coffee mug before holding up her hand as she turned to face him. Stefan stopped in mid-sentence, staring.

"Shut up, you worthless little fop. You weren't there where I was, faced with the choices that I had before me. You were in your bed," she looked at him a little hard, "getting fucked by your cook boyfriend and dreaming of power when you should have been working as we all must."

She really couldn't have cared less about his orientation, but she saw that her words had the desired effect. She watched as he sputtered in indignation.

"Shut up now," she said, "or I'll complete your transformation for you with my own hands. Firstly, I am here only because Micha sent for me, and not to meet with you. Secondly, I am deadly serious. I'd kill you only because of my cramps today."

Stefan watched in stony silence as she handed over the file that she'd carried here. Micha opened it and began to read.

He stopped once to regard her, "You know, your methods and results cannot be questioned," he grumbled quietly with his friendly smile, "But really, sometimes you are far, far past direct with your words."

"I know it," she sighed with a shrug, "I'll try to do better." She tried to look at least a little apologetic as she stood with her hands in the pouch of her hooded sweatshirt.

"That's one of the things that I was speaking about, "the psychologist began again, "you repress so much from your past, from what I've read, and then you act on it all at once. I believe that it points to very nearly psychopathic tendencies in you."

Both of them turned to regard him with disbelief.

She hit him four times in the span of a second or so. Her thumb against his throat down low caused his eyes to begin to bulge, and her fist against his sternum caused his knees to buckle. She helped it with her boot against the back of his leg, and he landed on his knees, just beginning to retch. Her extended middle knuckle dinged his temple, and he was on his face, trying not to choke on his vomit.

For a pureblood werewolf, it was more than a little humbling.

She crouched in front of him. "You were looking at planted tales and stories of my upbringing in those files, Stefan. The truth is much more bleak than anything you've read about me. But in any event, it is none of your business, and, "she smiled, "thank you so much for helping me with your psychology. I have just now successfully repressed the urge to cave in your temple and so I only hit you there lightly enough for this. but the effect of your help is passing even now," she said, feigning a crazed look at his pained face.

She stood up and buried her combat boot between his loins with a vengeance.

"There," she smiled sweetly, "I know that helped me a lot more than your method."

She reached into the pouch and produced the one-shot syringe that she'd carried here, and grabbing the fur on his head, she injected the contents into his neck. Stefan didn't seem to notice. The remains of his breakfast were coming up fast.

She looked at her boss, "Sorry for the mess, but another minute of his bullshit and I've have killed him. Our fears have been confirmed, Micha. His way in was Cornelius. Stefan found nothing but what lies we fed him, but it was Cornelius who was his contact here."