Bound By Wolves (Impregnated By The Wolves Part 1)

By

Bree Bellucci

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Bree Bellucci on Smashwords

Bound By Wolves: Impregnated By The Wolves
Part 1

Copyright © 2012 by Bree Bellucci

This book is a work of fiction and any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or
locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of
the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

The material in this document contains
explicit sexual content that is intended for mature audiences only
and is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age.

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BOUND BY WOLVES:

Impregnated By The Wolves Part 1

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It was only the beginning of their four day,
500-mile mountain climbing trip and Rachel was already so excited
she could almost burst. A trip with some of her best girl friends
was just what she needed to take her mind off her endless dating
troubles. No men, and especially no boys, allowed. She wanted to
make the rule that they couldn’t even talk about guys or
relationships at all during the trip, but she knew that was too
hard to accomplish. They were still females, after all.

Rachel’s last relationship had ended recently
and it was all she could do to try and stop thinking about it. She
was swearing off all men for the time being, she couldn't handle
any more disappointment for a while.

This wasn’t just any girl's trip. Rachel and
her friends weren’t like other women they knew. They didn’t go
shopping or go to spas and get manicures. They didn't go on
vacations to beaches to lay dormant on the sand, watching hairless
men in Speedos, getting pointless tans around the rims of their
expensive sunglasses. They were adventurers. They wanted to run,
jump, sweat and feel the heat of the sun. They loved the satisfying
burn that emanated from deep within their stressed muscle fibers.
They wanted to get lost and to get dirty, and go to sleep hearing
the rustle of the leaves outside instead of the rush of traffic.
Most of all they needed a challenge.

Burning energy surrounded by her best friends
in the world, was the greatest thing she could think of to distract
her from what was shaping up to be a very dry spell in her love
life. She was getting older, and she was starting to feel the
anxious ticking of her biological clock. She wanted to have kids
one day, to give birth, to experience the full cycle of natural
life and reproduction, but she didn’t want to copulate with just
anyone. The sterile and upstanding men she dated in the city were
all too clean-cut, too vanilla, and too weak.

These men didn’t deserve for her to carry on
their seed. Rachel didn’t want to slow the pace of her life for
some man-child whose greatest ambition is to sit on the couch and
watch other people play sports.

Rachel’s friends Michele, Emily, and Katie
weren’t quite as adept at rock climbing as Rachel was, but they did
have one thing in common - they were all single. And they were all
tired of the same bullshit.

The cabin they rented far up in the reaches
of Sequoia National Park was not some fancy chalet or cushy
get-away house. There was no electricity and barely any running
water. The only mini-bar was the one they brought themselves, and
the beds were more like cots, with scratchy warm blankets and
pillows that felt almost like they were stuffed with straw. If they
were going to be in the forest, they were going to do it right. No
television, no men and no crying.

They made a hearty meal of tough bread,
sausages and soup, and each of them poured at least an inch of
whiskey into the metal canteens they had brought along. The next
morning they would start their grueling climb to the top of the
first cliff, but tonight they were going to start off by having a
little fun.

The sun was beginning to set behind the
trees. The girls lit candles and the smell of hot wax emanated
throughout the cabin. They talked about their waning love lives,
the last men they had been with, all the things they liked and
disliked about their jobs. As the whiskey was flowing and their
cheeks started to flush, their conversation got a little
bolder.

“Okay Katie, truth or dare?” asked
Rachel.

“Truth.”

“How many times a day do you masturbate?”

The ladies all fidgeted uncomfortably. Even
grown women sometimes felt silly talking about certain things, even
if they all did it themselves.

“Ha ha,” said Katie. “Very funny. Like I
would ever tell you perverts.”

“Come on, you know us! We’re like your
sisters, you should be comfortable talking to us about anything,”
Rachel pushed.

“Fine,” she said. She thought about what she
had done just that morning, in the shower, before she had gotten in
the car for the trip, “At least twice a day, and in the summer
sometimes more.” Katie turned bright red.

The girls erupted with laughter. They all
agreed that satisfying themselves was something they did regularly,
but talking about it in a group got them strangely riled up.

“Your turn, Rachel. Truth or dare?” Michelle
asked, mercifully taking the heat off Katie.

“Truth.”

“Have you ever masturbated with something
other than a dildo?”

“No way!” she said, as a reflex, without even
thinking about if it was true. She was trying not to think about
what would fit inside her vagina on this trip. But, she realized,
some thoughts were harder to push away.

“Not even with a cucumber?” Emily laughed,
cracking up and almost spilling her drink.

Rachel thought about it some more, she was
the one turning bright red now. She remembered a few times she and
her roommate at Cal State had gotten drunk and feisty with an empty
beer bottle. Corona, she remembered, had the longest neck. Modelo
was the thickest one. But all of them were cold and lifeless.
Playful, sure, but not arousing. Man those were some wild and crazy
times, Rachel could hardly recognize the girl from her college
years.

“I don’t know, maybe in college? I don’t
really remember," she said evasively.

“Once I used a hairbrush,” said Emily. She
was usually the first to open up to the group in any conversation.
“I was trying to tease this guy I was fucking. I wanted to show him
what I could do to myself and get him really riled up so I made him
a video. He went crazy for it.”

They made a list of things they had used to
penetrate themselves when there was no one else around to do it for
them, the weirdest by far was Emily's admission of once using a
hotel travel-sized shampoo bottle. It was a desperate situation she
pleaded.

“Once I rolled up a sheet and used it,” said
Katie.

“I will admit, I do touch myself a lot. But
it is not the same, though,” said Michele, “as it is with a
man.”

The other girls nodded in agreement. One by
one they all got the glazed look of someone who was imagining
something far more visceral than could be played out in decent
conversation. Even a conversation among close friends.

“I mean sure, you can orgasm. But nothing
beats the warm hard feeling of someone coming inside you. Let’s not
kid ourselves, it is still just like fucking a mirror.”

She was right, Rachel thought. Of course
there was nothing better than a real, rough and tumble man. With
his sweat and strength and hair rubbing her chest raw as he
straddled her.

“It's not that there aren’t any men out
there,” Rachel said. “We’ve all had our fair share of dicks and
johnsons. It's just that none of them are tough enough. None of
them can climb as far or as fast as we do. None of the city boys we
date like to get dirty. I don’t want to be the wildest one in bed,
do you know what I mean?”

The other ladies knew exactly what Rachel was
talking about. They all echoed back to her, “yes," and “hell yeah!"
They were getting riled up, the whiskey bottle had a good sized
dent in it by now.

“That's why we’re here,” said Katie, and she
held up her canteen for a group toast. “To the masculine energy of
the wilderness!”

Michelle roared, “To finding our even wilder
sides!"

They all took long sips, reaching the bottom
of the whiskey faster than they’d hoped. Rachel went around to
refill all of their containers with as much as they would hold.
This weekend was about pushing their limits after all.

“What is it about the forests of the west
coast that bring out the wildness in people?” said Emily already
slurring some of her words. “One time when I was a teenager, I came
camping here with my family. We were staying in two tents, the kids
in one and my sister and me in another one. When they thought we
were asleep, I could hear my parents having sex. It was the loudest
and craziest I had ever heard anyone going at it. To this day, I
cannot get those sounds out of my head. They were like animals,
like dogs.”

After that, they took turns telling stories
about the craziest thing they had ever experienced in the outdoors.
Katie told them about her first time at Girl Scout camp. She was
ten years old and they had been sleeping five to a tent, with the
camp leader in her own tent a few feet away.

“Late into the night we heard a rumbling
outside the tent,” said Katie. “We were all scared, and no one
wanted to go outside. We kept really quiet, and turned off all of
our flashlights hoping whatever it was outside would go away, but
it kept coming closer. When our counselor finally went out of her
tent, she let out the loudest scream I’ve ever heard to this day.
It was a bear. A hulking grizzly bear. We saw its shadow from her
lantern on our tents. It was like something out of a cartoon. We
were so terrified, and the other girls and I grabbed each other as
hard as we could. Our scout leader’s scream scared the bear away
and he never came back, but none of us could go to sleep after
that."

Michele told them about the time she and her
college boyfriend had gone canoeing at Yosemite. They had come upon
a pack of wolves heading towards the bank of the river to get
water, and slowed their boat down so they could watch. The wolves
were majestic, she said. Like pets but with almost human facial
expressions. All of a sudden, while they were sitting in the boat,
a rabbit came towards the water to get a drink and the wolves came
to life. Almost telepathically, the wolves all jumped at once in a
group to surround the rabbit while the largest female grabbed the
animal with her majestic jaws.

“It was so amazing, so incredibly arousing,”
said Michele, “that I grabbed my boyfriend right there in the canoe
and told him to take me right there. I couldn’t even wait until we
were back on land. I think deep inside, I somehow wanted those
wolves to be near while we were doing it. He fucked me so hard that
afternoon that our boat almost sank. I still remember how the wood
of the canoe felt on my back as he was going down on me, the oars
bouncing around inside the boat, echoing with his grunts and my
screams. We made so many waves in the water that afternoon. Sending
the heat from our bodies literally splashing onto the shore.”

Moans came from each of the other friends. It
had been too long since any of them were so turned on, and here
they were in a cabin full of only women.

The wind outside the cabin began to blow
harder. The sun had set and they were almost finished with their
first bottle of whiskey. Rachel knew that the best time to climb
was early, before the sun hit its highpoint in the sky, so she said
goodnight and headed to her own room to go to sleep. The other
girls kept talking for a while, but one by one they headed off to
their own rooms to get some rest before the big day.

Once she got to her tiny room and took off
her clothes, Rachel couldn’t stop thinking about their
conversation. The wool of the thick blankets rubbed against her
skin, and she laid spread eagle, eyes closed, taking in the pure
mountain air that came in through her window. She wished she could
bottle it, take it home with her or inject it directly into her
veins.

When she opened her eyes, she saw her
climbing gear laying in a haphazard pile on the floor. Harness,
ropes, more ropes, chalk, clamps, helmet, shoes, elastic cases,
clothes made especially for sticking close to your skin.

And then there were the picks. When she first
started as a climber, she used belay ropes and spiked shoes to get
her way up the rocks. It was slower and safer than the pick method,
which required intense arm strength and a trust of the rock beneath
you, a knowledge of the nature you were engaging with. But she was
a professional now. She could handle higher climbs, denser rocks,
heavier equipment. Her newest purchase had been the 6 inch pick,
used to get a grip deep in the rock and pull yourself up. It was
the thickest pick she had ever used. The new rubber design of the
handle had a textured grip and finger grooves so you could hold it
even if your hands were sweaty.