Little Red
Chapter 2
Warning: Some bestiality in this chapter
By morning, it was a bad dream. A dog had got into the house somehow.
Leapt at him. He’d smacked it with the table and it had run away. Then
he’d had a nightmare while he slept. The bathroom smelled rank, there
was vomit in the toilet bowl and he flushed it away. The food from the
diner must have disagreed with him. That would explain the sickness,
the stomach pain, even the lingering feeling of cold. He’d been tired
and worried last night, should have stayed away from greasy food. He
brushed his teeth, got in the shower and stayed there until he was
warm, then dried off and dressed.
By the time Rhonda brought Gramma home, he was eating a bowl of cereal
at the kitchen table and was ready to put on a happy face for them.
Gramma flung her arms around him as she came in the door, squeezing
tight enough to make him wheeze. Rhonda kissed his cheek and ruffled
his hair, handed him the bags of groceries that Gramma had bought the
previous day, and hurried off. Red was glad to finally be alone with
Gramma, the quiet little house and her gentle voice, until she noticed
the table, that he hadn’t thought to pick up from the floor.
“Whatever happened here, sweetheart?”
“Uh, I think a dog got in the house or something.”
“You think? Well…what happened?”
His memory was hazy now. What had he been dreaming that had confused him this much?
“I…there was something hiding in your room when I got here. It had
gotten in through the back door, I think, at least it was open. It
jumped at me. I grabbed the table and hit it.”
Gramma gasped and grabbed his hand.
“I’m okay,” He assured her. “Really, it just freaked me out a little. I forgot all about the table. Sorry.”
She put her arms back around him. “Don’t you worry sweetie, I’m just
glad you’re okay. Now, what kind of dog was it? Did you get a good
look? I can call the police and ask them to keep their eyes peeled.”
“Gramma, you ought to be in bed.”
“Bullhockey! Dog! What kind?” She had the phone in her hand and a no-nonsense look on her face.
Could he remember what kind of dog it was? He’d had a good look at it, yes, but…the details didn’t stick.
“I don’t really remember. The lights were off but, I don’t know…I guess
it was a pretty big dog. I think it was grey or black. Dark grey.”
Gramma nodded and dialled the phone, greeting the person on the other
end by their first name. Red picked up the grocery bags and took them
into the kitchen to unpack, switching on the electric kettle for tea as
he did so. A dog had attacked him. Got in through the back door and
tried to maul him. He’d hit it with the table. It had run. Why didn’t
it feel real?
Gramma put the phone down, and he took a cup of tea out to her. She was looking a little worn, a little pale.
“How are you feeling, Gramma?” he asked, herding her into the living room.
She sighed heavily and accepted the teacup. “A little tired, but I
still say that damn doctor worries too much. Come and sit a while with
me. Tell me what’s going on, Red. I’m so far away from you two out
here.”
He smiled and sat on the couch across from her. She snuggled back in
her armchair and sipped her tea, and he told her all about work, and
his apartment and his friends. And then about his Mom and her work and
her friends. By the time he had her all updated, she was looking drowsy.
“Did you say you had some jobs for me to do?”
“Yes Red, but you don’t have to if you need to get back. Don’t worry.”
“No worry Gramma, I’m off work the next couple of days. My boss
realised I’d been doing a load of overtime, so he gave me extra
vacation.”
She beamed. “Oh, you’re a good boy. I bet your boss adores you. Okay
then, there are a few things that could use mending and looking at.”
A few hours later, Gramma was napping on the couch and Red had just
finished fixing a shelf in the linen closet, before which he’d put new
sealant around the bathtub, changed the filters in the kitchen
extractor fan, fixed a hinge on the dining room door and climbed up on
the roof to check the tiles. While he was working, he checked locks and
seals, frames and panels. He was sure that thing wouldn’t get in the
house again, at least not without being noticed. It felt good, burning
up a little energy. He washed his hands and made sandwiches, then went
out to call Gramma for lunch, when he walked past the door of her
bedroom and saw the shape of the hat tree against the window…his heart
throbbed in his chest, his face felt clammy. He stood, his shoulder
braced against the wall, breathing hard for a few minutes. The feeling
passed, but still, something felt very wrong. He looked out the window
and saw the early afternoon sunlight, watery in a pale sky. He had no
idea why he was worried.
The afternoon passed quickly. Gramma rallied and wrapped up warm to sit
out on the back porch while he raked the lawn and tidied the flowerbeds
for winter. The fog had cleared and her garden had a beautiful view of
the stream down the hill, the water glinting through the trees. He had
brought a fuchsia in a large plastic tub up onto the porch so that
Gramma could supervise as he cut back its branches ready to be put into
the greenhouse for the winter. She chatted quietly to him, getting him
up to date on her and Rhonda’s adventures, the gossip in the town. It
was soothing. That was until…
“It’s getting dark Red, are you sure you’re going to be okay driving home?”
Everything came back.
Red felt a chill run down his spine. Oh God, the thing in the trees
last night. He had to be out of the woods before dark. He had to!
“You’re right Gramma,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Lemme put this in the greenhouse and I’ll set off, okay?”
Gramma looked surprised, but she nodded and gathered herself up to go
back inside. Red took a moment to calm himself. The dog in the hallway,
not a dog, and now it all rushed back into his head, the terror of it…
he shuddered, then shook himself to clear his head. He couldn’t worry
Gramma, not when she was ill. He picked up the fuchsia and carried it
into the greenhouse, then stamped and scraped the mud off his boots and
went back inside, gathering up his belongings into his bag. Gramma
hugged him, tried to give him money for gas, which he turned down,
tried to give him a thermos of coffee for the drive, which he accepted.
The he kissed her cheeks, told her he loved her and was in his car and
on his way, less than ten minutes after he’d realised the danger in the
dark.
It might not have been enough. The sun was barely above the horizon
now, no fog today but the heavy cloud dampened the light, made shadows
hazy. He drove as fast as was safe through the town, out into the
woods. As long as he could get past Hob’s Field safely, he’d be okay.
He would be okay.
He had to put the headlights on by the time he got within a few miles
of Hob’s Field. The wind had picked up and the woods around him were
alive with motion and sound, but he kept his attention on the road
ahead. By the time the moon came up, he could see the first few houses
of Hob’s Field ahead of him. Whatever it was, the soonest it could have
started following him was out between the village and the town. Its
territory was there. It wouldn’t follow him past the village, he was
sure of it. The stretch was miles, there was no chance, he was sure of it.
The illuminated street was a welcome sight, and he almost didn’t want
to leave the little village. He considered stopping off at the diner
again, but didn’t. He was spooked, despite his assurance of safety. He
just wanted to get home, get back to the city, where giant dog monsters
just didn’t happen. He drove past the diner, then a minute later, past
the diner’s sign, back out into the woods with the headlights on full
now. The moon was up above, clear tonight, and wholly full, gleaming
there in the sky. His eyes caught on it for a long moment, watching it
drift along with him as he headed along the straight stretch of road.
Then, just as he returned his attention to the asphalt, he saw movement
low down to the left of the car, a brief glimpse of brown fur, and then
he hit something with a solid bang.
Slamming the breaks on, he skidded the car to the verge of the road and
stopped, then sat for a moment, feeling slightly winded. What the hell
had that been? That low to the ground, it must have been something
small. A rabbit wouldn’t have made that big of a thud though. A fox? A
dog?
He put on the parking brake and switched off the engine. His flashlight
went into his coat pocket, then he took the wrench from the door pocket
and worked his hand around it for a moment to be sure of his grip.
Then, slowly, carefully, he got out of the car. Ten yards or so behind
the car, right in the middle of the road, lay a large shape…he couldn’t
tell what it was. It wasn’t moving, didn’t seem to be breathing.
Shutting the car door as quietly as he could, he carefully edged closer
to it. A long, smooth shaped body with short, tawny fur. It was bigger
than he’d expected. It must have been moving strangely to have come at
him from so low on the ground.
As he got closer, he realised; it was a deer. A full grown doe, lying
on its side, back towards him. He circled around it, keeping his
distance; he knew it could hurt him if he spooked it, if it was still
alive. But as he got around to its other side, shone the flashlight on
it, there was no doubt. The animal’s midsection was torn open, its guts
spilling out onto the asphalt. He grimaced. It was still fresh so no
stink yet, but he’d have to pull it off the road. That big an animal,
it could be dangerous if anyone else was driving that road in the dark.
He stuck the wrench in his coat pocket and, holding the flashlight,
grabbed onto one of the deer’s hind legs and started to pull. As he
did, a realisation struck him; what was there on his car that could
have caused that much damage to the deer’s belly? Moving it had pulled
the wound further open, and the tear looked…strange. Changing his grip
on the flashlight he leaned down to take a closer look. The wound
looked brutal. Inflicted. As if something big, maybe claws, maybe teeth-
Oh no. No. His heart drumming with fear and adrenaline tingling in his
muscles, Red looked up and shone the light towards the car, where it
glinted off the huge silver eyes of the creature loping towards him. He
looked behind him, up the road, back towards the car, but he was
entirely alone out here. No lights or buildings in sight. Nothing and
nobody to help him. Grabbing the wrench back out of his pocket, he held
it aloft, remembering now with perfect clarity the thing’s reactions,
the way it had fled when he threatened it with the table. But now, it
kept its steady pace towards him, slow and assured in its approach.
He could barely take in the details of its body, so focused was he on
the silver eyes that were on a level with his chest. He could hear the
muted strikes of its large paws against the ground as it moved. He kept
himself steady, ready to bring the wrench down as soon as it started
towards him again. But no, once it had stopped, it just stood there, a
few feet away. He saw its eyes move, taking in his stance, the weapon
in his hand, the flashlight he still had trained on it. And then, in
one fluid movement, it hauled itself upright, onto its hind legs, and
stood before him.
The creature towered over Red. Its body was broad and powerful, its
limbs thick and sturdy. It stared at him, steadily, silently, down the
length of its muzzle. Red thought he might mess his pants. What the
hell was it? He swung the wrench, aiming at its shoulder to try and
disable a limb, but a rapid swipe of its forepaw knocked it out of his
hand to clatter away into the ditch by the road. His hand stung with
the force of the blow. And still it just stood there, watching him.
Red told himself sternly, don’t be scared. It won’t do you any good.
Get out of this alive and then you can be scared. He squashed down his
fear, buried it, forced his head to clear. The creature sniffed at the
air. Its lips peeled back from those dreadful teeth.
Red feinted left then darted right and dashed past it, making a
desperate run for the car, but a claw caught at his elbow, tearing his
sleeve and spinning him off his feet. He caught himself on his palms,
grating the skin from them, and twisted to look back at the creature.
It was on all fours again, right behind him. It growled.
Instinct took over, and Red lumbered to his feet and began to run, as
fast as he could muster. The creature darted in front of him, between
him and the car, so he changed direction, and bolted away up the road,
back towards Hob’s Field. If he could get close enough, yell loud
enough, but no, it was in front of him again, and he turned and took
the only route left open to him; into the woods.
Stupid, stupid! He told himself. He’d had little chance on the road,
virtually none now he was in among the trees, tearing noisily through
the grasses and ferns. But still, if he was going to die, he wasn’t
going to just give up. He’d run until his heart stopped if he had to.
Then, just as he was sure it was almost on him, the sounds of its steps
moved off to his left and he bore right a little and suddenly his feet
were on a path. An old dirt path through the trees, and he could run
full out. He could feel the reaction of the adrenaline in his muscles,
forcing him along faster, faster, and how quickly could an animal that
size hope to run anyway, especially among the trees? Maybe he had a
chance!
A light up ahead spurred him on even faster. A house. People. He could
do this. He couldn’t hear the creature any more, had he really left it
that far behind? His heart leapt as he got onto the gravel path that
lead to the house, still a couple of hundred yards away by that point,
but there was the mailbox, and he could make out the shape of the
narrow porch in the light, the front door, the fence, an old house but
in good repair, and it was clear somebody lived there. Just a little
further, he told himself, just a little further.
His feet hit the steps to the porch and he lurched up them, banged his
fists on the door, yelling almost incoherently for help. There was no
answer, no sound at all from inside. There were no windows up there on
the porch, but if he could break a window, just a space big enough to
put his hand through, reach in and unlock it, he could barricade
himself in and phone for help. He turned and started down the steps to
head for the window next to the narrow porch, was nearly back on the
path when he realised that the creature was right in front of him.
He froze. It was on its hind legs again, staring levelly at him. It
made a vague gesture towards him with a forepaw, but he didn’t,
couldn’t move. It was only when it lowered its head and snapped its
teeth at him, shifting forwards to hurry him back up the steps towards
the door, that he realised he hadn’t found his way to this house by
chance.
He’d been herded here.
He edged carefully back up the steps, hoping like hell that it wouldn’t
follow. It stayed put, at least until he reached the porch, then it
shifted and stepped forward, awkward on two feet, making it’s way
towards him again. It gestured again, its paws ill suited to
communication. Red stood dumbly, until it repeated the gesture, adding
a show of fangs, and he got it; reached back and scrabbled for the door
handle, turning it and finding it unlocked. Warm air drifted from
inside, and, seeing that the creature seemed to be waiting for him to
move, he turned his head enough to see into the house.
The light he’d seen was a lamp on a small dresser a few feet inside the
door. There was a large open room, a low fire in the fireplace casting
a bruise-red glow over the shapes of sofas and a table. On the far side
of the room, to either side of the fireplace, were a couple of doors.
Perhaps there was another exit. Neither of them looked likely though.
A gruff noise behind him, and he stepped backwards without even
thinking, feeling the soles of his shoes scuffle the doormat across the
floor. Oh God, he suddenly thought, what about the people who lived
here? Had it done something to them? Had it killed some poor family,
just to have somewhere to bring him?
Shit, what was it going to do to him?
Red turned back to the doorway, skittering back into the room as the
creature came through the door, its body filling the frame completely
for a moment. Then, it shoved the door shut, and Red’s last glimpse of
the world outside the house was gone. Nothing now but the unfamiliar
room at his back and the monster in front of him.
He felt strange, not detached, and yet not overcome by his fear, as he
would have expected himself to be. He felt alert, energised. Even when
the creature lowered its head towards him, sniffing at him again, he
didn’t even flinch. And when it reared away from him and stepped to one
side to look around the room, he felt a surge of defiant hope inside
him.
The creature cocked its head as it looked appraisingly at something
across the room by the fire. Red was about to turn and see what it was,
when one claw-hand clenched into the fabric of his jacket at his
shoulder, turning him and pushing him forward. For an instant the
thought of making a run for one of the doors crossed his mind, but the
creature was still right behind him, close enough that he could feel
the heat off its body.
He heard and felt it shift behind him and realised that it had dropped
back onto all fours again. Turning his head to get a look at it got him
growled at, so he just kept moving, edging slowly forward across the
room, his arms held away from his sides, as non-threatening as he knew
how to be. If he had a chance to survive, it surely involved avoidance
of threatening behaviour of any kind. How he could count as a threat to
a creature that size he wasn’t sure, but it was the sort of thing
people said on nature shows, like about not pissing off mountain lions
and…maybe he was getting a little detached after all.
He was most of the way across the room, nearly at the fireplace, when
the creature made a gruff noise in its throat, then reached out with
one fore-paw to catch at his knee. Surprised, Red staggered as the
joint went weak and collapsed, landing him on his backside in front of
the sofa. He turned his head sharply to look at the creature, expecting
to be savaged for his clumsiness, but instead it was looking at him
thoughtfully. Turning its head, it studied their immediate surroundings
and Red found himself doing the same, glancing quickly at the wide
stone fireplace, the smooth floorboards covered by a thick rug, the
worn leather sofa at his back.
The creature seemed satisfied, by what Red didn’t know, but it suddenly
sat down on the rug, in front of him and slightly to his left, sitting
like a regular dog, tail curled almost demurely over its fore-paws.
Red stared at it. It cocked its head and stared back.
Red edged away, just an inch. It showed the slightest flash of teeth, and he froze.
Red wasn’t sure how long they stayed in that strange stalemate. His
heart drummed in his chest, but his head stayed clear. When that
numbing terror threatened to rise up, he squashed it back down. Even
though he was fairly sure he was going to die.
When the creature finally moved he flinched like he’d been scalded,
scrabbled for his control and held himself still as it shifted towards
him, sniffing at him again. A sudden flashback to the previous night as
it nosed at his throat, its tongue sliding wetly across his Adam’s
apple, the corner of his jaw. He clenched his fists, digging his
knuckles into the floorboards and fighting not to make a noise.
It backed off a little, its liver-pink tongue flicking up over its top
lip before it closed its mouth. Red gasped, then bit his lip as its ear
twitched at him. Stillness for a moment as it studied him, its face
inches away from his chest, moving slightly as it looked carefully at
his clothes, his bent knees, the rapid movements of his chest as he
breathed. Then it shifted position and he saw that-oh god, oh no- just
like when he’d seen it the previous night, it was aroused.
Suddenly, faster than his eyes could make sense of, its forepaw shot
out towards him, claw-fingers clenching into his jacket at his shoulder
and pulling it up and back, sliding his arm half out of his sleeve and
dragging the other arm up behind him. Twisting sharply to avoid being
lifted off the floor, Red grunted as the creature pulled the fabric
sharply towards itself, and that was it, his jacket was off, tossed
somewhere on the floor on the other side of the couch.
The creature seemed quite pleased with this. It took another deep
sniff, snuffled at the exposed strip of skin on his shoulder where his
sweater collar had been pulled across, and then the paw grabbed at him
again, clutching and pulling at his sneaker this time. It yanked him
forwards, away from the support of the couch, and Red was stunned at
how easily his body fell to the floor, too weak with shock to hold
himself upright. He put his toe to the back of his shoe and shoved it
off, then did the same with the other one before the creature could
grab at him again.
No shoes now, huge dog-creature sniffing at his feet, which he was sure
couldn’t be pleasant after his afternoon of yard work, but it seemed to
enjoy it because now its claw-fingers were plucking at his sock and…oh
God, it was undressing him. Just what the hell was it doing? Shit,
didn’t polar bears pull peoples clothes off before they ate them or
something?
It managed to yank his socks off, dragging Red another couple of inches
across the floor as it did, then slicked the arch of his right foot
with its long tongue, making him flinch, a pang of heat shooting up his
spine. It shifted and reached a paw towards his arm again, and he took
the risk of pre-empting it, grabbing the bottom of his sweater and
t-shirt and squirming out of them, his shoulders dropping back onto the
coarse rug and the cool floor as he got the fabric over his head.
Faint snuff of sound from the creature which Red took to be approval,
and he risked another glance at it – sharp silvery eyes, pink tongue
lolling in the slightly open mouth, huge swollen cock between its
powerful hind legs, a thread of fluid strung between the tip and the
rough fur on its belly. It looked… its cock looked…human.
Red shuddered, feeling acid rise in his throat, but at the same time
his skin prickled with heat. His breathing was becoming short, its
scent tingling in his nostrils as it shifted forwards to stand almost
over him where he now lay on the floor. ‘Sicko’, he called himself in
the privacy of his mind, ‘why the hell aren’t you trying to stop this
anymore?’ But the rebuke wasn’t enough, and when those vicious fingers
curled in the waistband of his jeans, he simply reached down and
unfastened the button and the zipper, lifted his hips up as it pulled
the denim off, carefully lifted the waistband of his underwear away
from his own hard cock so it could get rid of those too.
And then he was naked on the floor, with a monster on top of him, his
heart pounding behind his ribs, his whole body greedy for its touch. He
didn’t know what was going on, with the situation at large or his own
desperate body…but if this was going to be the last thing he did, he
was going to enjoy the hell out of it.
The pads of rough skin on its palm were hot against Red’s hip as it
gripped him there and pulled him bodily onto the rug. The heat of the
fire to his right, the heat from the creature’s body above him, and the
searing heat of arousal running in his blood made him feel dazed. It
felt all at once like it had suddenly begun, and yet like it had been
there all along, waiting for him to notice. The creature held his wrist
and licked wetly at the graze on his palm, and he tried to turn his
mind to working out how long he’d been hard for before it took his
pants off, but his mind was having none of it.
It had to be adrenaline reaction, getting him this worked up, he told
himself as it pushed his thighs apart and crouched in the space between
them, scenting the air inches above his groin. But every sense he had
told him, no, not adrenaline. Stockholm syndrome, he wondered, as the
creatures silver eyes fluttered shut and a satisfied rumble escaped its
chest. But no, his body told him that this was nothing but what it was.
Then that hot tongue swiped his skin, from the base of his dick up to
the tip, up his stomach and chest and neck to flick under his chin, and
he let his head fall back onto the rug and gave up on thinking.
Monster’s mouth at his throat and he didn’t give a damn because his body was buzzing.
It stuck one paw under the small of his back and lifted his lower body
until his dick was pressed against its solid, furry belly, the head of
its own cock nudging stickily at the back of his thigh, and he
flinched, thinking for a moment that he was going to come.
The creature grunted breathlessly and lowered him back to the floor,
shook itself slightly, then grabbed his hip and rolled him, turning him
neatly onto his front. Red knew what was going to happen, knew it would
probably hurt him pretty badly, but he couldn’t make himself
frightened, couldn’t try to escape. He wanted it. As if to make him
prove this, the creature pushed at the backs of his thighs with its
knuckles and, understanding, he pushed his hips up, getting his weight
on his knees. Another happy rumble – the thing liked it doggy-style,
big surprise.
It got a good grip on the tops of his thighs, pulled his legs further
apart, spread his buttocks open. Then that hot, sloppy tongue swiped up
the crack of his ass making him jump. It gripped tighter, licked again
and then thrust its tongue into him, as deep as it would go in that
first stroke, then in deeper. Teeth pricked the soft flesh of his ass
as it worked at him, mouth wide open, broad, flexing tongue pumping.
Breath huffing against his back and he could feel his body opening for
it, warming and softening.
A shift behind him, it moved one hand to his shoulder, lining up behind
him and Red braced his forearms on the rug. Brush of coarse fur against
his back and the insides of his thighs and then the broad head of its
cock was pressing in, squeezing in. The stretch hurt like hell, he
could hear a weird keening noise coming out of his throat as he fought
not to fight it. In deeper with every second and, despite the pain, the
burning crush of it inside him was beautiful. Memories flickered into
his mind, lovers he told to be rough with him, to do it hard, but this
was…this was almost too real.
In deep now, and the good kind of pain right down inside, pulsing burn
that sparked off sharp twinges of pleasure, chasing through him. It
withdrew a little, shoved back in hard enough to make Red’s knee skid
on the rug. His leg was grabbed, propped back underneath him, and then
the creature seized his hips, drew its cock smoothly out of him and
thrust back in so hard that it made him yell.
It didn’t slow down, just pounded into him, until his arms slid on the
carpet and he felt it stretch its legs out behind them, claws scraping
along the wood floor, one fore-paw on the floor and the other tucked
around his stomach. It was fucking him so hard now, so deep inside, he
could barely breathe. His head spun, his body seized, and the creature
bucked and yowled as it felt him come. It curled over his back as his
body became slack, only its arm under his hips keeping him from
collapsing completely as it quickened its pace, short, stabbing thrusts
into his very core, its pelvis battering against him as it kept itself
embedded deep. Red could barely see, the tidal wave of his orgasm had
hit him so hard, and still it wouldn’t let up. A scratch against his
belly made him flinch, as it clenched the paw that held him into a
fist, and then a burst of warmth, a thrust so hard he felt his joints
creak, and a startling, guttural groan as it came.
Red’s ears buzzed. Hot breath heaved past the back of his neck.
Gradually, steadily, the creature lowered him back down to the floor.
Only as its barely softened cock slid from his body did Red realise how
he ached, from his ass to his knees, elbows, shoulders, the whole
length of his back. The carpet was soft and cushioning under him, the
warmth of the fire welcome. He was…dazed. Dizzy. Now it was over, he
was aware that he should be trying to get away, or at least to make
sense of what was going on, but he could barely bring himself to move.
The creature settled down onto the carpet, letting its weight rest on
Red’s back for a moment and shoving the air from his lungs, before it
twisted slightly to flop onto the floor, keeping him between it and the
fire. He had a feeling that that small threat held some kind of
meaning, showing that it could hurt him just with its bodyweight. But
he couldn’t bring himself to think it through. He was falling asleep,
stubbornly comfortable in the curve of the monster’s body.
Chapter 1 ~~~~~~~~ Back to Red Riding Hood ~~~~~~~~ Chapter 3