by S. Wolf
“I’ve seen enough,” Bear’s Tooth said. “Two of you stay here and don’t let any out. We will come and get you when we’re ready.”
Twenty minutes later, the small group of braves huddled behind a large boulder, shielding themselves from the imminent explosion. Niwok lit the fuse, and ran back to the group. He wasn’t sure how long it would take the fuse to burn back to the powder, so he ran like his life depended upon it. They all waited breathlessly, and as the seconds passed they wondered if something had gone wrong.
“Maybe I should check it,” Niwot finally said, and got up to go.
Bear’s Tooth grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. A second later, the explosion shook the earth, sending dust and debris into the air. Small rocks fell around them as they hugged the ground.
They waited for the dust to clear, and when it did, they saw their efforts had been successful. The front of the cave was permanently sealed with a large landslide of rocks and earth.
“It is done,” Bear’s Tooth said in a sad but firm voice, and turned to leave. His braves fell in behind.
Inside the cave, the inhabitants paid no attention to the blast, concentrating instead on their lustful activities. They continued unabated, some for weeks, not allowing the starvation deaths of their fellow tribe members to give them pause. Dead bodies were fornicated with until they decomposed to slushy flesh, then the living turned to each other for gratification.
Eventually, death came to them all, their bodies decomposing in the damp air of the cave, congealing together in a single mass of rotting body parts, forming a slushy soup that oozed down into the cavern’s pool.
Chapter 2
Nebraska – Present day
The coyote waited at the entrance to its den, sniffing cautiously at the air. It refused to allow its thirst for water to override its need for safety. In its world, a lack of caution meant certain death, and he hadn’t lived to his old age by being foolish.
But it had spent the entire day yesterday huddled in the back corner of its den, knowing the shaking of the earth was coming. Like most animals, it could sense when an earthquake was imminent, and that feeling was strong yesterday. Sure enough, the trembler came in the middle of the night, causing a cave-in of the tunnel of his den. He had worked hard all day to clear it, and now he needed to drink.
After a few minutes of sniffing, he left the den, the ground cool under his feet. A few hours earlier, it would have been different, and the rocks that had been sitting in the midday sun would burn his footpads if he stood in one place for too long.
He climbed down the hillside, making his way towards the stream, looking forward to its cool flowing waters. Halfway there, he came across a smaller stream of water that crossed his path.
This was new. He had been by here many times and there had never been water here before. Sniffing it, he could detect a slightly strange odor. He followed it upstream, instinctively searching for its source.
He found it between two large rocks on the side of a hill. The water was bubbling up from the earth in a natural spring, forming a small pool that overflowed down onto the path. Sniffing it again, he smelled that same odd smell. Was it safe? He whined in confusion, knowing he should probably go to the stream, but feeling the thirst burning at his stomach.
He turned towards the stream and started towards it, but a pang of thirst shot through him and he turned back. There was no need to go all the way to the stream when there was water right here to drink.
Leaning his head down, he lapped at the pool, enjoying the coolness of it going down his throat. It was delicious. All thoughts of the stream left him as he continued to drink, his day-long thirst coming to an end.
As he drank, he felt an energy enter his body. It brought back memories of his younger years, when he had several females in his pack, and mated with all of them. He had been the dominant male in this area, and controlled the pack with his strength and mating. Now old and in his final time, such concerns were no longer important.
Until now. As he drank, that old inner power came back to him – the desire to find a female and take her. Soon, it was all he could think of, his safety and hunger forgotten as he wandered off into the evening in search of a mate.
Chapter 3
“Wake up.”
Walter Zanderson awoke from a deep sleep, feeling a nudge on his shoulder.
“Wake up,” his wife repeated.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a sleepy mumble.
“Something’s wrong with the dog. Can’t you hear it?”
Walt lifted his head from the pillow and listened. Sure enough, the dog was howling and barking. The last time it acted like that, a wolf had been sniffing around the hens.
He sat up and looked at the clock. Two a.m.. Goddamn animals. If he had his way, he would get rid of them all and just put crops in. But no, Brenda wanted the animals, so he was stuck taking care of them. How about if she wants chickens so badly, she can get her ass out of bed at two in the morning to check on them? How about those apples?
But instead, he allowed his wife to sleep as he pulled on his pants and buttoned them over his nightshirt. Before leaving, he took a good look at her ass sticking out from under the covers. Even the granny panties she wore didn’t deter him from having some thoughts, and he wondered if she would be up for a little playtime when he got back.
Probably not. It had been a while since she had given it up, even though he kept trying. It was a different excuse every time, and last night it had been her sore feet. He couldn’t understand how that prevented her from fucking, since her feet would be up in the air anyway.
It had gotten so bad, that lately he had been eyeing up the milking machine, wondering what it would feel like to stick his cock in there. He had heard other farmers talking about it, claiming it was better than a woman. But he laughed off that kind of talk, telling them he wasn’t that desperate. But now, he was beginning to rethink that decision.
Downstairs, he took the gun off the rack above the fireplace, and headed outside. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, because that would wake the girl. He wouldn’t mind waking his wife, since they were her damn animals and she didn’t deserve to sleep, but his daughter was a different story. If he woke her up, she’d be bitching up a storm tomorrow morning at breakfast, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Carly had been a sweet thing when she was younger – a regular Daddy’s little girl. But that all changed when she hit her teenage years, and the wildness set in. Now she was moody and dyed her hair black, and got piercings in her lips and nose to go with the ones she had in her ears since she was nine.
Then there was that damn thing on her tongue – the stud that pierced it all the way through. When she had come home with that one he had raised holy hell, telling her there was only one use for such a thing, and she had better damn well not be using it for that. But in the end, she had outlasted him, and it remained. So now he had to look at it every time she talked, forcing him to think about things he would rather not. He was actually looking forward to this fall when she would go off to college.
During the day, Shep, their German Shepherd, ran free around the farm. But she spent her nights tied up behind the barn next to the chicken coop, performing her sentry duty. As Walt approached the barn, her barks and yelps got louder, and he picked up his pace, wanting to shut her up as quickly as possible.
He raised the gun before he turned the corner, just in case it was something bigger than a wolf. They’d had the rare bear stop by, and he didn’t want to come across one of those without being ready.
But what greeted him wasn’t a bear. In fact, it was the damndest thing he had ever seen. It was a coyote, but it wasn’t interested in the chickens. Instead, it was mounted on the back of Shep and humping frantically, its hips jerking in a frenzied motion against her hind quarters.
He nearly burst out laughing from the sight. He wasn’t sure why, but the sight of the mangy critter humping his dog struck him as funny. Bu
t he realized that maybe the thing had rabies, and he better get it off of her.
He lowered the rifle and shouted, “Hey! Get away from her!”
The coyote didn’t look his way. It just kept humping away as if he hadn’t spoken.
“Hey!” he shouted louder. “Now git!”
Again, the animal ignored him. Instead of running away, the animal stepped up its pace, and Walter could hear the faint slapping of its body against the dog.
Must be rabid, he thought, and raised the gun and aimed. But the thought of his daughter bitching at him made him lower it again. Looking around, he noticed the axe sitting by the woodpile.
Walking over, he exchanged the gun for the axe, hefted it in his hands, and approached the humping animals.
“Git!” he shouted. “Go!”
He was only about five feet from the pair, but the coyote still kept thrusting his hips, oblivious to the man right behind him. Taking a step closer, Walt reached out with the ax and nudged the coyote on the shoulder.
The coyote finally reacted. It turned its head towards him and snarled, baring its teeth in a fierce grimace, all the while never missing a beat in its thrusts.
“Why you mother cusser,” Walt said, feeling a spike of anger. “Bare your teeth at me will ya?”
He took another step closer and brought the axe back, coiling his body like a batter waiting on a fastball. The coyote seemed unconcerned and shifted its attention back to the dog, hooking its front paws deeper into her sides.
Walt uncoiled, swinging the axe in a tight powerful arc, whipping through the air and barely slowing down when it reached the coyote’s neck. Slicing through it like warm butter, it continued on its way, taking flecks of blood and pieces of fur along with it.
The coyote’s head, now connected to the rest of its body by just a thin strip of fur and flesh, bobbled in the air before falling. When it reached the end of its flesh tether, it jiggled like a fish on a line. Once again, Walt felt like laughing, the sight reminding him of a cartoon from his youth.
But inexplicably, the headless body continued humping his dog, as if it was following some inborn instinct without thought. Blood was spurting out of the stump of its neck in rhythmic jets, coating Shep and the ground around her.
“Mother fuck!” Walt exclaimed, and brought the axe back again. But thankfully the coyote stopped its movements, and now clung motionless to the back of his dog. He waited a few seconds to make sure it was really dead before poking it with the axe. It didn’t move.
Giving it another minute, he finally reached out and grabbed its tail, giving it a yank. The paws came loose from Shep’s sides, but something was keeping it stuck to the dog. He pulled harder but it wouldn’t come loose. Leaning his head to the side, he discovered what it was.
The coyote’s cock was still stuck in her, and it must have swollen up and lodged itself.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, half out of horror and half out of humor. He was certainly going to have a story to tell the next time he went down to the Feed & Seed.
He pulled harder on the animal, but all that did was pull Shep back towards him. Putting one hand on the dog’s blood-soaked fur, he held her in place as he yanked the coyote’s tail.
Suddenly, Shep twisted her body and bit at his arm. He managed to get most of it out of the way of her teeth, but they caught the skin at the fleshy part of the forearm, and when he lifted it, he saw she had drawn blood.
“Bitch!” he cried. “God damn it!”
He let go of the tail, and Shep turned to face him, her shoulders hunched low and showing her teeth. The coyote’s body still hung obscenely off her ass. Once again, Walt felt like laughing but the dog’s teeth sobered him up.
“You were a good dog,” he said, bringing the axe high above his head. “But this shit has to end now.” The dog gave out one last sharp yelp as he cleaved its head in two.
Walt stared down at the two corpses. Now that was fucked up. He checked the wound on his arm and decided it wasn’t too bad. He’d clean it up when he went inside and before he went back to bed. He decided he wouldn’t tell Brenda about Shep until tomorrow morning. No use getting her upset in the middle of the night. It would probably ruin any chance of him getting some loving from her tonight, not that he thought his chances were too good anyway.
The image of her ass popped into his head. What he could do with that if she’d let him. He could peel her panties down and take her just like that. Slide his cock right into her and hump her like the coyote had been humping Shep. Wouldn’t that be something?
And why not? She was his wife, wasn’t she? Isn’t it her duty to allow him to fuck her? Wasn’t that one of the vows she took on their wedding day? To love, honor, and give up the pussy? He chuckled to himself at the thought.
Yes, he thought, why did he have to wait for the rare occasion when she wanted it? Didn’t he have needs too? Sure he did. He could feel the need now, pressing hard against the front of his pants. Why did he have to go to bed every night with aching balls when there was a perfectly fine cunt lying right next to him?
Yes, that’s right, his wife had a cunt. She was a cunt and she had a cunt. His lips stretched into a tight grin. And according to the laws of the church, their wedding vows meant he owned that cunt just as much as she did. He could have it any time he wanted, even if she refused to give it up.
Like right now. Now would be a perfect time to shove his hard cock into her. He walked back towards the house.
By the time he reached the porch, all coherent thought was gone, except for the need to stick his dick into his wife. His erection was painfully hard, and he reached down and unzipped his pants to free it as he entered the house and climbed the stairs.
In the bedroom, his wife was in the same position he had left her, with her panty-covered ass sticking out from under the covers. He kicked off his shoes, removed his pants, and skimmed off his shirt. His erect cock jutted out fiercely, the skin stretched taut over the bulbous head.
He kneeled on the bed, causing the springs to squeak lightly as he shifted into position. His eyes locked on the curves of Brenda’s ass, and he lightly stroked his dick. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he spit a copious amount of saliva into his palm, and rubbed the lubrication around his cockhead, making it slick for its invasion.
With the other hand, he pulled her panties to one side, revealing her fur-lined slit to his lustful gaze. She shifted slightly but didn’t wake. Adjusting his hips, he nuzzled his cock into her crack, searching for the entrance. Finding it, he wasted no time in pressing forward, burying the slick head into her tight cunt.
“What?” she said, still half asleep.
He responded by pressing harder, sliding half of his length into her.
“Walter! What are you doing?”
He grunted a response and flexed his hips, driving his cock completely inside.
“Get off of me!” She tried to twist her hips away but he held her tight, enjoying the feeling of her cunt squeezing him as she struggled.
He pulled out until only the head remained, then slammed back into her, his balls slapping audibly against the cheek of her ass.
“Ow,” she cried, “you’re hurting me!”
Her words meant nothing to him. All he could think of was the pleasure he was feeling. He fucked her in short savage thrusts, his engorged cock stretching her unused pussy and filling her completely. His low grunts accompanied each hard slap of his hips against her ass.
“Walter, stop it.” But her words had lost all emphasis, and soon her breathing picked up, meeting his thrusts with movements of her own.
“Ooh, that feels good,” she said, “It’s been too long.”
He continued his jackhammer-like pounding, not caring if she was enjoying it. His orgasm was nearing.
“Aaaaaaah,” she moaned. “Give it to me Walter. Fill me with it.” Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, as she jerked her body back against his, wanting him deeper.
The dark room was f
illed with the wet sounds of their animalistic coupling. The squelching noises of cock moving in clasping cunt, and the groans and moans of pleasure.
“Fuck me!” she cried, and the last remnants of her sanity were shocked at her use of the word, but they were overtaken by the lust surging through her brain, and all that remained was the need for sexual pleasure.
“Fuck me hard,” she groaned, “Fill my dirty cunt with your hard cock. Shoot your cum in me.”
Just like he used to do when he was sane, Walter obeyed his wife and blasted jets of hot sperm deep into her, filling her until it leaked out in runny white streams around his pistoning cock.
When he was done, they did it again. Halfway through he pulled out of her cunt and slipped smoothly into her ass. Her tight sphincter stretched unfamiliarly around his aroused girth, but she moaned with pleasure from the invasion.
When they finished the second time, he got off her, his lust still unquenched. Leaving the bedroom, he walked down the hall to the door at the end, and pushed it open without hesitation. He entered the room and stood naked and erect over the sleeping form of his daughter.
Staring down at her, all he could think of was the stud on her tongue, and how he could put it to good use. He became aware his wife had followed and was standing beside him. Looking over at her, he saw her staring at the sleeping girl also.
She turned her head to him and her lips arched into a lustful smile.
Chapter 4
The bell on the door tinkled and Josh Becker looked up from the book he was reading. Police Chief Daniel Moore was coming into the store.
“Good morning Josh.”
“Morning Chief. Shoot anyone today?”
Chief Moore grinned. This had been a running joke between them since Josh was in the Fifth Grade, and Moore, just an officer at the time, came to his class to talk about drugs. Josh was fascinated by the gun on the police officer’s hip, and when Moore finished his drug speech and asked the class if they had any questions, Josh’s hand shot up. Of course, his question had been, “Have you ever shot anyone?”