Bound By Wolves (Impregnated By The Wolves Part 1) (2 page)

As she ran her fingertips over the thick end
of the pick, Rachel got an idea. She carried the instrument over to
her bed and laid down, spreading her knees wide open. Slowly she
started to touch herself, first running her hands down the hard
muscles of her stomach, years of core-strengthening had given her
the tough but nubile body of a warrior.

Her nipples were getting harder and
contrasting with the supple skin of her breasts beneath them. They
were large for an athletic woman, but they never got in her way.
She loved the way they felt through the thin fabric of sports bras,
brushing against the hard rocks that she climbed. And how they felt
now, open and puckering beneath the night breeze.

She traced her abdominal muscles and reached
down to her thighs, stroking slowly until she got to her pussy. It
was hot, and already so much wetter than she could remembered being
in a long time. She found her engorged clit and began to rub
ferociously, up and down, slinging her own juices onto the rough
blanket of her cot.

With her eyes closed, she began to imagine a
tongue licking her pussy. Not the tongue of any man she knew, or
any she had dreamt about. It was more primal than that, a more
desperate and innate kind of licking. Lapping up her juices like a
thirsty animal, not able to stop, never getting enough.

She felt the heat start rising in her feet
and her legs began to twitch. She was close to coming, but she
wanted to try something. She reached over to the pick and carefully
turned it over. She took the grip end and inched it up inside her,
pulling back and forth, feeling the ridges and the finger grips and
the wide hard handle beneath it and “oooooOOOHH!” she started
moaning before she could even stop herself.

She reached for a pillow and placed it over
her face. She fucked herself over and over and over, opening her
tight pussy up to this new toy, this new permutation of a man’s
virtuous member. She was getting greedy. She felt like she could
take even more, that she needed more, that she could take a whole
mountain inside her right then and all of a sudden, it was all
over.

Her muscles tensed and spasmed and her whole
body shuddered while the handle was still deep inside her. Her
fingers were drenched in her own cum, and she pulled the handle out
slowly and returned it to its place among her supplies. As she
caught her breath and her heartbeat was returning to a normal pace,
she heard noises coming from the other rooms in the cabin. Maybe it
was the wind?

But then, she noticed muffled sounds and
repetitive banging motions that were all too familiar. It seemed
that her friends had gotten the same idea. She listened to each of
her friends make unique sounds: Emily’s was soft, like a crying
puppy; Katie was grunting, muffled but intense, saying “fuck, fuck,
fuck, fuck”; Michele’s was like a song. Rachel could imagine
Michele’s mouth in a perfect ‘O’ shape, sucking and blowing air as
she thrust her own toy inside her.

The noises got louder and louder, reaching a
crescendo all at once, like a magnificent aria. She could almost
feel the very foundation of the house shaking from all that noise,
all those orgasms. After that, all Rachel heard was the slow
mountain breeze coming through the curtains.

She might have felt weird, if they were
anyone else or if they had been in any other vacation spot,
listening to the sounds of her friends’ pleasuring themselves. But
here, it felt like a cozy blanket, covering her with the thought of
warmth emanating from the earth’s true center.

That night there the cabin was full of so
much estrogen, so many female smells and pheromones and needs, all
pulsing through the air and seeping into the birch wood of the
floors and the walls. The smell of four single ladies, all in
perpetual heat, wafted through the open screen of the windows and
into the forest beyond.

That smell attached to the molecules in the
air and disseminated into the wide swaths of land around the
reserve. Anymore, it was a scent unfamiliar to humans. Thousands of
years of evolution and urbanization and chemicals and the
sterilized scents of stainless steel buildings had made it
impossible for humans to recognize anymore the debilitating and
vicious scent of their own desires. But that same native smell was
still intoxicating to animals, especially the most human-like
animals.

Before she finally fell asleep, Rachel made a
solemn vow to herself that once she and her friends left that cabin
in the woods, when their vacation was over and they had
accomplished what they had set out to, she would find someone to do
to her what she had only just begun to do to herself. To take her
laying down on a bed of peat moss, standing up against a balboa
tree, or bending her over a glacial boulder. To show her all the
ways that nature could be the ultimate aphrodisiac. She would find
her wild man once and for all. But for tonight, she only
dreamt.

The next morning, Rachel and her friends were
going to be scaling the largest cliff in the whole reserve: the
Agro Craig. “Go big or go home,” they all agreed. And none of them
were too keen on going home without some epic stories to tell.
Starting with the toughest climb would only make them stronger,
prouder, tougher. The height and inclination of this cliff was the
hardest any of them had ever tried, but the pent up energy from
last night’s conversation and the mist of the early morning were
revving their engines like they had never been tired in their
lives. The girls felt like they might never be tired again.

As per usual, Rachel was the first to ascend
the rock. She made sure to secure her helmet first, and then
wrapped the ropes and harness tightly around her body. She secured
the carabiners into place near her hips, and her still sensitive
groin. The hexes, clams, and the ice pick with the large wooden
handle still slick from last night's pleasure adventure, were
tucked into her backpack. Everything was in its own special elastic
spot. She reached into the pouch at her waist and rubbed her hands
with chalk, to increase the friction between her hands and the
wall.

She began to scale the craig as the other
ladies were still putting their harnesses on and tightening the
straps. The plan was for them to climb to the top, meet at the
crest and break for lunch and then all make their way back down and
around the mountain back to the car to get home before dark. This
was the tallest and hardest of the climbs they had scheduled for
the trip, but they should all be able to make it back by
sunset.

“Last one to the top is a pussy!” Rachel
yelled playfully at her friends and fellow gluttons for the dirty
side of nature.

One foot after another, one hand reaching
above her head at a time, she moved up the hard face of the
mountain. Inch by inch, relishing at each pound of her body that
she was strong enough to lift herself. There was still a ways to
go, and she planted her feet into grooves in the rock face, sitting
in her harness and turning her face towards the rising sun behind
her.

By now she was at least a hundred feet up.
Rachel looked around at the gorgeous view. The redwood trees extend
hundreds of feet above them, phallic and hard and authoritative.
She had never seen anything so beautiful. Her muscles were starting
to swell. Her body was covered in sweat, and the harness was tight
around her groin.

“Am I still feeling the leftover tremors from
last night,” she thought, “or... am I actually getting aroused by
the scenery?” It wouldn’t really surprise her. As a child she was
always touching herself outside, rolling naked in the mud and
rubbing herself against trees in their sprawling yard. These were
things she had not told the other girls the night before when they
were sharing stories. It was not because she was shy, or because
she didn’t like sharing with them, but because she had forgotten
how powerful those feelings were until right then. Something about
nature, and the raw power in the animal spirit always got her
juices flowing. Now, suspended above the earth she could see why no
man she’d ever met had ever satisfied that most basic of needs in
her.

She reached into the bag of chalk to coat her
hands, afraid the increased moisture would cause her to slip.
Slippery was good, she liked slippery. Just not when she was
hanging from the face of a mountain by a thin rope and a six inch
metal pick.

The top of the mountain was something they
could reach. A goal, a point of contact, something to conquer. But
now that they were here, on top of it, immersed in it, the mountain
surrounded her and she became a part of it. It was bigger than her,
and she let herself melt into the face of the earth, touching her
whole body to the rock, hardening as it hardened, then feeling both
of them soften simultaneously. She was becoming closer to nature,
and as it was happening, she wanted even more of it. Suddenly she
felt her body surge with energy. She reached down and grabbed the
pick, shoving it back into the rock above her head.

Each climbing step was harder and harder, but
she took it in stride, feeling the heat and power of the mountain
itself running through her own body. Looking down, she saw her
friends far below her. She was way ahead of them, and from here she
felt almost alone, like she was the first person to ever climb this
mountain, the first woman to ever get as high with the strength of
her own arms lifting her up.

By the time Rachel reached the top of the
mountain, she was covered in sweat. Glistening with the natural
result of burning so much of her body’s energy. She took one more
sweeping look at the other mountains and the sprawling tree-scape
behind her before reaching her hands over the top of the cliff.
Pulling herself up and over, she felt a surge of pride and
accomplishment. She unhooked the ropes and harness from her torso,
and stood at the top of the mountain looking around at the
magnificence surrounding her.

“Aaaaaooooooooohhhhhhh!” she shouted. The
loudest sound she had ever made, coming from somewhere deep within
her. She had made it to the top of this mountain. From now on,
nothing could stop her now from accomplishing her life’s
ambitions.

Behind her, Rachel heard a rustling of trees.
A snapping of twigs. She turned around quickly, scanning the forest
for animals. The wind played all kinds of tricks up here at these
altitudes, she knew, but the sound had been more intentional,
almost human. A few yards away behind a massive pine tree, she
caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure.

“Hello?” she called. “Hello? Is there someone
there?”

But there was no response. Her mind must be
playing tricks on her. She knelt down and looked over the side of
the cliff to see how far down the other girls were. She knew she
had been way ahead of them, and she couldn’t even hear their voices
now from this far up. As she peered over the edge, careful not to
lean too far over, she heard the noise again behind her, this time
something closer to footsteps. She turned her head around
quickly.

“Hello?”

But as she turned around, she heard another
rustle and she swore she saw the shadowy figure run behind another
tree. It was as if it was spying on her. If Rachel hadn’t known any
better, she would have sworn the shadow was in the shape of a
human. A man, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told herself. “There’s
no one else up here. The park rangers told us there was no one else
attempting this mountain this weekend. You’re being crazy. It’s
probably just the altitude. Just get it together and look at the
height you just climbed. You’re tired and-”

There it was again, leaning out from behind
another gigantic sequoia tree. It’s movements were more graceful
than a man, but it was larger than any animal Rachel had ever seen.
She walked towards it, but when she got closer the figure started
to run.

Before she knew what she was doing, Rachel
had grabbed her gear and began running after it. It wasn’t as fast
as a wildcat, running just beyond her as if it wanted her to follow
it. She was tired, she needed rest, but the adrenaline was pumping
through making her faster, more limber, bolstering her curiosity
above all else. Together, with her closely at its heels, they ran
down a bank of the mountain to a clearing, where tree branches
thick with leaves obscured much of the sunlight. In the mottled
darkness, the figure raced behind another tree and began circling,
tree after tree, but still obscured in the shadow. Rachel stood in
the middle of the clearing, turning around in circles.

“Hello?” she said. “Who are you? I just want
to see you. I promise I won’t hurt you.” She realized how silly
that sounded. She was much smaller than the creature, whatever it
was. But humans were still the natural predators of the wilderness
and all its children. Rachel called out again but nothing
responded.

She started feeling dizzy, and leaned over,
putting her hands on her thighs to steady herself. She looked down
at the ground and the bed of leaves beneath her cushioning her
aching feet, feeling all of a sudden like she needed to take a nap.
The last thing she remembered hearing was a loud flutter of leaves
and the soft pouncing of an animal expertly catching it’s prey.

When Rachel opened her eyes, she felt a
tightness around her limbs and her belly and a familiar scratching
against her back, which she realized then was completely bare. She
was tied to a tree. Her arms, above her head, and her legs, spread
out below her, were bound using the ropes from her own climbing
gear. She tried to scream, but she was too tired, and almost no
sound came out.

Across the clearing, she saw her creature. It
came closer and she finally gets a look at the thing she chased
here, the thing that must be responsible for her capture. It’s
walking on all fours, covered head to paw in a thick grey fur. The
color of rock, of a winter sky.