My name is Shaniyah. Shaniyah Jefferson. I’m eighteen years old and I’m just about to graduate from high school. I’ll be going to the University of Nebraska next year and I want to major in biology so I can become a veterinarian. See, I’ve always loved animals.
Part of that comes from growing up on a farm, I bet. My family moved to the farm from Detroit when I was a little kid. My momma and daddy, they hated the cry and the dirt of the city… They saved and saved and always dreamt of having enough to buy a little farm somewhere. Finally, they managed it and with the preacher man’s blessing, we moved out of the city to the countryside.
I’ve always been around animals: horses, cows, pigs, goats, chickens, dogs, cats… If you can think of it, we probably had it on the farm at one point. We even had pheasants and Cornish hens and other weird little birds for a while until my dad decided selling them to rich city folk didn’t make enough money.
My favorite animal on the farm, though, wasn’t a cow or a chicken or a horse or even a dog, really. It was a great big white wolf dog we took to calling Rogue. Can you believe that?
A wolf on a farm, living like a member of the family… No one was really sure where Rogue came from. I was the one who found him, when I was only nine. I was outside playing, running through the fields when I heard a growling amid the corn rows.
I remember turning and seeing a real wolf: huge and terrifying, spit dripping from its bared fangs, bearing down on me. I shrieked, as any nine-year old would and I started to run. I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me but I was so terrified and the corn was so thick, it wasn’t long before I went tumbling to the ground.
The wolf was on top of me in a second but before it could do anything, something even larger, a dark grey furry something crashed into it, ripping it off me. The two beasts wrestled on the ground for a minute before the wolf that attacked me darted off, disappearing into the fields.
It was Rogue who saved me. I was trembling and crying, sobbing in a ball on the ground, and it was big old Rogue who trotted up to me and nuzzled my face with his snout, licking my tears away with his big soft tongue. He nudged me until I stood and led me back to the house.
I explained to my father what had happened. My parents, my brothers and sisters, they all listened in amazement as I told them how Rogue had saved me, how he’d fought off the wolf and then led me home.
“Can we keep him, daddy? Please, please, please, please!” I remember begging.
“He’s basically a wild animal, Frank,” I remember my mom saying, glancing at my dad and then turning her gaze to Rogue’s face, which looked a little hurt at the suggestion that he was nothing more than an animal. He really did look like a wolf—a huge one at that, bigger than me, more like a small polar bear than a dog.
“But look how tame he is!” I cried out, sticking my hand under Rogue’s snout for him to lick me gently.
“There have been more wolf attacks lately,” my dad said, a thoughtful note in his voice. “It’d be great to have a dog around who could scare off the bastards.”
He sighed and reached out to tousle my light brown hair.
“All right, kiddo. You’ve got yourself a dog. A wolf, maybe.”
“Thank you, daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed, hugging him and Rogue in turn.
And why did we name him Rogue? Because my dad wanted him to be our Rogue against wolf attacks. Somehow, Rogue understood his duty perfectly. He’d sleep in the house or laze around the farm most days, maybe curled up on my bed or in the living room and then at night, he’d prowl around the perimeter of the farm.
Occasionally, we’d hear howls and cries and Rogue would come into my room in the morning to lick me away, his face and ears covered in little scratches from his battles the night before.
“Oh, no!” I would cry out. “Poor Rogue!” And I’d shower his face with kisses while he wagged his tail and dangled his tongue out of his mouth, a big goofy grin on his face.
And so, Rogue was with us, all throughout my childhood and adolescence. It was great to have him around, waiting on the front porch for me when I got home school, tail wagging and excited to see me.
Even though I have two brothers and a sister, it was pretty clear that Rogue loved me best. He’d only beg for table scraps from me at dinner and I’d always save a little napkin full of food for him later in the evening.
Rogue also protected me all throughout that time. Starting when I was maybe twelve, I gained a lot of weight. I’m not as chubby now as I was then—now, I’m pleasantly curvy, with big boobs and a big butt and those child-bearing hips you hear so much about, but when I hit puberty, things definitely developed out of proportion to each other. I certainly did look pretty funky, with boobs way too big for my frame and lots of acne. Everyone goes through these phases, I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with!
Anyway, I got teased and bullied a lot at school. Not only for my curves but for my kinky, nappy hair. One day, after a particularly merciless bout of teasing from a girl named Marissa who had cornered me in the bathroom with her friends and forced me to text all the boys in our class with pictures of me in my underwear, I came home sobbing and threw my arms around Rogue.
Even though I knew he couldn’t understand me, I told him through my tears what had happened. He looked at me with his silent, sympathetic face as I told him the names of all the girls who had been mean to me, who had teased me so fiercely, so cruelly.
And with that, he darted out of my room. We didn’t see or hear anything from Rogue for two days but I did hear about him at school.
I overheard conversations between the girls who had teased me: all of them had experienced the same thing—dreams about a wolf, standing over their bed, growling at them, baring its teeth and drooling on them. They were all legitimately terrified and eventually, they noticed that any time they bullied me, the wolf would appear.
Before long, the bullying stopped. I never knew how Rogue did it: how he knew where the girls lived, how he got inside their homes without anyone knowing and managed to find the girls and convey his very specific message to them: Leave Shaniyah alone or I will return.
But the most important story I have to tell you about Rogue begins the night of my eighteenth birthday. It was near the end of my senior year and my friends and I were all planning to go off to college at the end of the summer.
My parents had decorated our barn really nicely for my party, with lights and candles, and they’d even gotten a caterer and a great local band. Most of the senior class was coming and, more exciting, Tom Simms, my then-crush, said he had a special birthday present for me.
“He’s going to fuck you!” my best friend Callie said with delight as I tried on yet another party dress in my room.
Rogue made a growling noise and rubbed his snout against his paws. He had been looking depressed all day, and spent most of his time hanging out on my bed, looking up at me with his big, sad eyes.
“Ugh, do you think that’s what he wants?” I asked with a giggle.
The dress I was wearing definitely showed off my curves—it didn’t make me look fat. Rather, it just made me look like a sizzling, smolder voluptuous lady of the night—exactly what I was going for!
“Rogue, what do you think of this dress?” I asked the wolf. He looked up and wagged his tail enthusiastically.
“It’s settled. Rogue likes it, so I’ll wear this one. Rogue, do you think Tom will like it?”
Rogue all but rolled his eyes and growled again. Callie burst into giggles.
“It’s so funny, how it seems like he understands you!”
“What do you mean? Rogue and I have a special connection—he totally understands me!”
At this, Rogue wagged his tail in delight.
“Oh, come on… You can’t really believe that. He’s just an animal. He doesn’t understand English or anything like that… That’s called projecting,” Callie said gently, reaching out to scratch Rogue behind the ears. He nipp
ed at her hand and she drew it away suddenly.
“See?”
“I guess you’re right. You don’t understand me at all, do you, boy?” I said sadly to Rogue. “I wish I could explain to you that I’ll be going off to college in a few months too.”
Even though I was sure he couldn’t understand me, some part of me didn’t totally believe it. And it didn’t help that he seemed to deflate when I said those words, and whined softly before trotting out of the room.
“What a goofball,” I said with a sigh, taking one more glance at myself in the mirror
My Birthday
The night of my party, the barn and really, the entire farm was a glittering, magic wonderscape. There was food and dancing and drinks and all sorts of incredible things. We were all so happy to finally be graduating.
But Rogue seemed to have disappeared—by this point, all my friends knew that I had a pet wolfdog and they all wondered where he was, when he would be coming out to play.
“He should be around here somewhere,” I’d say every time, peering around the barn, expecting to see Rogue begging for scraps or licking some pretty girl’s leg, his mournful eyes turning then to a crockpot full of pulled pork (his favorite snack).
Suddenly, I spied Tom Simms striding in with two of his friends. And he was carrying a wrapped present. My heart began pounding a rapid staccato beat—my crush was here and he really had brought me a present! I almost couldn’t control my delight. I wanted to rush over to him from across the room but I held my composure.
“Tom is here!” Callie whispered in my ear, coming up behind me, as if I didn’t already know.
“I know Tom is here!” I hissed back. “I saw him the second he walked in!”
Callie giggled. “Of course you did!”
“I’m not going to go up to him now. I want him to come over to me.”
“That’s a good idea. Play hard to get. Boys love that. Make him work for it. Make him grovel.”
Maybe now is a good time to mention that I was a virgin? And that I’d never gone beyond kissing a boy? My stomach was all tied up in knots at the thought that Tom Simms, the tall handsome farm boy football player next door, might be my first! I could just imagine him taking me out to the corn rows and laying me down amid the rows, mounting me, taking off his shirt and revealing his strong, built chest, and then undressing me, tossing my clothes to the side…
Then, he’d spread my legs and I’d feel his mouth “down there”—god, how I’d fantasized about that! I’d spent so much time stroking myself, imagining Tom’s mouth on my nether lips! And after he made me cum once or twice, he’d slide himself inside of me and we’d make love there beneath the moon and stars…
“Hi, Shaniyah.”
In my reverie, I hadn’t noticed Tom approaching me. There he was, with his white, winning smile and his perfect hair. He wore a light jacket and a dark, button down shirt—the perfect ensemble for this chilly late spring night.
“Oh, um, hi. Tom. I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” I said, trying to appear cute and coquettish, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Idiot, I thought immediately. Of course you know he was coming tonight—you invited him!
“Um, well, you did invite me…” he said, smiling shyly. Phew. He didn’t seem too weirded out by my stupidity.
“I got you a present,” he continued. “Can I give it to you?”
“Oh, yeah! Of course. That’s so sweet of you.”
“Um,” he said slowly, looking around a little nervously. “Can I give it to you somewhere more private?”
Callie shot me a look from across the room and I blushed.
“Yeah. That’d be… Awesome.”
He took me by the hand and we walked together, out of the barn, into the quiet fields surrounding my house. Once we were far enough from the barn that no one could see us, where the noise from the band and the party was just a dull rumble, he wrapped his hands around my waist.
“Happy birthday, Shaniyah Jefferson,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss me. His kiss was hot and rough and tender at the same time and it drove me crazy. It quickly got sloppy but I didn’t mind. This was the exact kind of kiss I had fantasized about sharing with him, the kind of kiss I’d fantasized for months and months about.
His hands slid down to my ass and I yelped in pleasant delight as they found their way up under my dress, grabbing my thong-clad ass. He massaged it as we kissed, pulling me into him, driving the bulge in his pants into my crotch. I murmured in quiet pleasure as he rubbed himself against me.
“Why don’t you open your present now, Shaniyah?” he whispered.
An eager smile on my face, I couldn’t resist. I tore open the wrapping and then the box and there in my hands was… A video camera?
“What’s this for?” I asked in confusion. Suddenly, the two boys that Tom had arrived with stepped out of the corn rows, one on either side of me. They grabbed me by the arms and I yelped in surprise, dropping the camera. Tom skillfully caught it.
“Tom! What’s going on?!” I squealed.
“We’re going to make a little movie with you, Shaniyah,” he said huskily. My eyes were wide in terror as he slid his hands up under my dress again and pulled down my thong. He flicked the camera on and hiked up my dress.
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is previously uncharted territory… Shaniyah Jefferson’s cunt…” And now, he held the camera under my dress and spread my pussy lips apart.
“Tom, stop it! Stop it, please!” I whined, struggling against the boys holding my arms. One of them grabbed my hand and forced it down to his crotch. I realized that he had unzipped his pants at some point and my hand closed around his hard, meaty cock. I screamed and jabbed my fist into his crotch.
He let out a yell and punched me hard in the side. I went to my knees and tears began to fall from my eyes.
The other boy, the one I hadn’t punched, drew a gun from the back of his jeans and leveled it at my head. I’d never been so scared in my life. Tom glared at me as he unzipped his pants, the camera still pointed in my direction.
“Come on, Shaniyah. You’re not being a very good movie star.”
“Tom, stop it. Please. Please, don’t do this.”
“I know you want this, you slut. I see the way you look at me. Now, everyone in town is going to see what a fat, dumb cunt you are. I want to see you fucking degrade yourself. I want to see you suck my cock like you fantasized about…”
“No, Tom. Not here… Not like this…”
He grabbed my by the hair.
“Do it.”
I let out a sob and slowly, let my mouth fell open. I was terrified and I was prepared to give him whatever he wanted… Even if it disgusted me. Even it if made me want to throw up.
Suddenly, I was aware of a loud, low growling coming from the corn rows. Could it be?
Out of the rows burst Rogue, landing on top of Tom. His teeth were bared and he snarled something fierce, spit flying from his lips and landing on the prey below him.
“What the fuck?!” Tom screamed, struggling under Rogue’s weight. “Get this fucking beast off me!”
The boy with the gun took aim and fired twice into Rogue’s side, knocking him off Tom. I screamed—this really was the worst night of my life!
“Rogue, no!” He had just been trying to save me!
“Is that a fucking wolf?” Tom demanded of me but I was hysterical, sobbing, unable to look at the bloody, grey pile of fur that had once been Rogue.
“Why the fuck is there a wolf?” the boy with the gun wondered.
And then, something amazing happened. Rogue stood back up. Slowly, but surely, he stood. In the pale moonlight, I could see the wounds in his side start to disappear, the blood dry and fade.
Rogue growled, blood still dripping from his mouth. The boy with the gun took aim again and fired, the round crashing into Rogue. This time, the wolf didn’t even flinch. Instead, he began to—I guess the only way I could describe it is transform.
/> He began to grow tall and broad, like a human, a human man. He was naked and his fur fell away, revealing a handsome young man, a white man, his chest splattered with blood. He was totally naked, revealing a physically perfect male physique—he had the type of body that made underwear models and soap opera stars insecure, perfectly proportioned, his muscles flexed and tight under the stress of the situation. His hair was a little long, almost down to his shoulders. He was gorgeous.
“Rogue!” I screamed.
The boy with the gun screamed too and fired another two shots but Rogue was too fast. He ducked and dashed forward, tackling the boy and knocking him to the ground. He straddled the boy and laid into him: one, two, three punches and the boy was out.
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