How to Tame a Wolf

A short story by Philip Webb Gregg

The forest was dark and wet with dew.

Red could see tiny beads of it, glistening on the underside of leaves and dripping into the velvet moss. The first few steps into the forest were like leaping into a cool river on a high summer’s day. Light filtered through the heavy canopy above. She walked carefree, swinging her basket along the path.

The gifts she’d brought Granny-Willow were nothing special—small things like jam and chutney to sweeten her summer meals. But Red was proud of the honey, an early crop from eager bees. Granny-Willow didn’t really need these things. She was perfectly capable of growing, gathering, and hunting. But Red had other reasons to visit the old woman in the woods.

As she walked, she thought about the Villagers. What would they say if they could see her strolling in the forest, so close to dark?

The Villagers had many stories about the forest and the things that dwelled therein. They said Granny-Willow was the last follower of the Old Gods—that witch! They muttered curses and crossed themselves whenever they spoke her name. They said the forest was full of dangerous and untameable things. They repeated these warnings over and over, but the words held no meaning for Red. To her the stories were like the background chitter of birds, or the moan of wind in the trees.

Because Red knew the truth.

She’d felt the draw of the forest since she was a little girl—a whispered urge that thrust her into the soothing shadows, where the air was quiet and fresh. Not like the muggy Village, with its dusty streets and muttering mouths. It seemed wherever Red went, the Villagers did nothing but ask foolish questions: Had she found a husband yet? When would she knit her bridal gown? Her parents were forever giving her clothes to mend, plates to scrub and floors to scour; tasks that would keep a woman home. Order and Discipline: these were the Gods of the Villagers. But Red didn’t want to mend and scrub and scour.

Why would she? Her desire was for other things.

It was Granny-Willow who had first spotted Red’s quiet yearning. On one of her rare visits to the Village, she had seen Red idly weaving leaves and twigs together. Their pattern fell into the shape of a face, a green face, horned and grinning. Granny-Willow had gasped and gathered Red to her side.

"That’s the face of the Old God you’ve got there, my girl. It means you have a green-green heart, just like me.” She’d smiled as wide as the leaves.

From that day forward, Granny-Willow had schooled her secretly in many things, like how to foretell the weather and cure sickness with herbs and roots. Whenever Red entered the forest, she would practice Granny-Willow’s teachings. And unlike the stories the Villagers told, the old woman’s words never faded into the background. Always in the forefront of Red’s mind was what Granny-Willow had taught her about the ways of the Old Gods, for the Old Gods had a purpose, and that purpose was to contain the darkness.

“We have a sacred duty,” Granny-Willow’s voice crackled when she said this, like the embers of an ancient fire. “Without us, and our rituals to keep the Shadow in check, all manner of chaos would be set loose upon the world, and the balance of life would be broken. One day soon, my girl, this sacred duty will be yours!”

Red’s insides tingled with anticipation. But whenever she asked Granny-Willow what, precisely, the duty was, the old lady just grinned her toothy grin.

“You’ll know when the time comes, my girl. And come it will. Just remember: you must embrace the Shadow. And then—ride it!”

***

Red sighed. She still had no idea what Granny-Willow’s words meant.

She resolved to ask her again tonight. For now, she was content to enjoy the path and the pleasures of the forest. After a month in the Village, the feeling of being alone filled Red with a bright, mischievous energy. It seemed as if the forest’s arms were opening wide, beckoning her with flower blossom and the laughter of the insects in the trees.

Red took a breath and stepped off the path. She wasn’t too far from Granny-Willow’s cottage, and did not think a detour would cause harm. Besides, the forest was beckoning.

As soon as the safety of the path vanished behind her, Red felt the beginnings of a warm, deep urge creep up her thighs. All around, the dappled trees thronged with summer yearning. Rabbits rutted in the shrubs and insects and birds chased each other through the branches. Even the bees seemed full of lust as they stroked the honey-lips of flowers.

It didn’t take long to reach her favorite cherry tree. Ducking under its branches, Red settled herself against its mossy trunk and let out a deep, satisfying sigh.

Noticing the cherries that hung all around, Red reached out and pulled a handful to her mouth. The juice burst between her teeth and she felt a spurt of hot, sweet life trickle down her throat. Her heart beat faster. The warmth of the evening lay over her like a lush blanket. Slowly, Red moved her fingers along the mossy bark of the tree, caressing the soft surface. Her hand came back wet and she licked a finger, tentatively, with the tip of her tongue. The dew tasted of summer.

Another sigh escaped her lips.

Somewhere nearby, Red heard the bubbling of a stream. The scent of honeysuckle drifted down from the canopy. Her eyes lingered on the pattern of the red cherries against the azure-blue sky. The slow warmth between her legs began to tingle hotter, until she simmered with want. She let it smoulder for a few more moments and then, at last, she moved her dewy hand along her thighs, under the skirt of her red-red dress.

She gasped when she felt how wet she was.

With a languid slowness, she began to stroke, pressings into her swelling sex. She let out a final sigh as she slipped a finger, then two, into herself, spreading her petals and searching for the rich nectar within. Her fingers dipped in and out, rubbing and pressing, as her eyes drifted across the forest floor, glazed and wandering. Her breath came in hushed moans and pants. For a long while she just moved and breathed, finding her rhythm. Nearby a mushroom rose between two tangled roots, its velvet shaft ending in a glistening head. It seemed to quiver in the evening light. For a moment it was as if the entire forest was thrusting toward her, hard and swollen all at once.

Red was right there, so close she could touch the sky. As her whole body began to shudder, she looked up and saw—through the trees—two brilliant golden eyes, staring right at her.

Somewhere between panic and ecstasy, she came.

***.

Red hurried along the path a little quicker than before.

She was keenly aware of the dwindling light. But she couldn’t ignore the memory of her orgasm shivering through her with each step. She’d never felt like that before. The wave of fear and bliss had swept over every inch of her body, vast and wild.

And those eyes!

They’d vanished back into the woods as soon as she’d spotted them. She’d been too dazed to speak, or she might have called out, or tried to follow. What had it been? A person? An animal? No one had ever looked at her like that before. Oh, the young men from the Village looked at her all the time. But they saw her as a farmer sees a field, already counting the seedlings they could sow. They’d never thrown their hunger at her feet.

Red shuddered, feeling the darkness gathering. Could it be that Granny-Willow had grown too old to perform the rituals? Did those eyes belong to a manifestation of the Shadow?

When Red caught sight of the cottage, lights in the windows shone through the trees like a beacon of understanding. Red was looking forward to a pot of tea and honey from the basket. Granny-Willow would be pleased to see her, and Red could ask about the eyes.

"Granny-Willow?" She tap-tapped her knuckles to the wooden door.

"Come," called a soft, husky voice.

Red stepped into the cabin, expecting to see Granny-Willow’s rosy face beaming at her. Instead, she was greeted by an empty room.

She glanced around. Everything looked normal. The inside of the cabin was one long space, with a blazing fire at one end and a bed at the other. As usual, there were candles and flowers positioned on every surface. And the bed was piled high with a small mountain of fabrics and furs.

It was a long, slow moment before Red noticed the eyes, gazing at her from beneath the bed covers. At first, she thought it was Granny-Willow, but these were not like Granny-Willow’s eyes at all. These were brilliant-gold and ravenous.

"The old witch is not home."

Red did not move. "Where is Granny-Willow?"

"I told you. Not home." The voice sounded at once playful and dangerous.

Red’s pulse was racing. Who was this creature, and why was he hiding in the bed? Fear and anger fought inside her until, at last, anger won.

"Show yourself!"

The bedclothes rustled, the pelts shifted, and a creature emerged. He was tall and dark, but his long, thickly-muscular limbs were covered in short, downy fur. Other than that, he looked human. Apart from those liquid yellow eyes.

Red’s own eyes gleamed. He was naked as nature itself.

"You can call me Wolf."

An owl hooted somewhere in the warm darkness, and Red dropped the basket. Somehow, she knew with certainty that this creature came from the Shadow and that the bounds of the Old Gods were slipping. And then she had a thought, one so clear and sudden it could have come straight from the lips of the Old Gods themselves. This was Granny-Willow’s sacred duty.

Red knew the Old Gods kept the Shadow at bay through a sacred pact—one she had not previously understood. Yet, Granny-Willow had said that if the pact were ever broken, the Shadow would be let loose upon the world.

The wolf cleared its throat.

"Is that honey I smell?"

Startled, she bent and picked up the jar.

"You can have some, if you answer one question."

"Oh, a game? I like games." He moved closer to her, and she could smell the wilderness on him. "I will answer your question, sweet honey lady."

His wide mouth grinned down at her.

Red tried in vain to pull her eyes away from his rippling body. She was full of a strange mix of emotions. Shock, anger, and something else. She could feel the blood pulsing hotly through her. From the muddle of her thoughts came Granny-Willow’s words: "You must embrace the Shadow. And then—ride it."

At last, she took a breath and said:

"Tell me, did you enjoy watching me?"

***

The Wolf seemed pleased at her question, and grinned even wider. Red saw that his teeth were long and sharp, and she had a sudden desire to feel those teeth all over her body. On her neck, along her narrow arms, between her thighs.

She felt herself blush.

"Yes, very much."

The fire cracked behind them while a torrent of unsaid words passed through Red’s mind. She could not quite believe she was standing in the presence of the Shadow-made-flesh. The thought of the ritual before her, and what she had to do, made her insides quiver.

"I’ll take my honey now, if I may?"

Slowly, Red unscrewed the top and dipped her fingers into the jar. The honey was silky and thick as she scooped out a fingerful and rubbed it into the flesh at the base of her neck. The golden liquid looped and trailed from her hands, dripping down her dress.

"Come and get it," she whispered.

The Wolf moved to cup the back of her neck with his hand and brought his face close to hers. His scent was heady, but not unpleasant. It was the smell of leaves in autumn and dust after rain.

Then his warm tongue was stroking tiny circles on her skin, and she gasped. Her hands went to his body and she curled her fingers along the angle of his shoulder.

What big arms he had!

His muscles were like knotted roots, emitting quiet power. Her hands travelled down his forearms until they found his palms, the fur on them reminding her of the touch of moss.

What big hands he had!

She held them in hers for a moment, as he trailed his wolfish tongue up and down her neck. Then she brought his palms up and placed them, candlelight-quiet, onto her breasts.

The Wolf let out a low growl.

"Delicious."

Delicately, Red moved his hands to the buttons of her dress. One by one they snapped free, and she felt the cool air touch her skin. Wriggling her body, she peeled away the fabric, revealing shoulders, arms, breasts, hips. All the while she stared deep into the creature’s golden eyes. Until at last, she was as naked as him, and they stood together. Her pale skin glowed next to the darkness of his rich fur. Her heart was pounding, and her sex was thrumming with want.

Clearly enthralled by her shape, the Wolf’s gaze roved up and down, devouring her. But he didn’t move. He stood there, quivering and erect in the firelight.

For a fleeting instant, fear passed through her. She was about to embrace the Shadow itself. After this, there would be no going back to the Village. Her life would become the forest, the sacred rituals, and the Old Gods.

She took a deep breath. This was it.

The first kiss, like the first step into the deep forest.

Red reached out and pulled the Wolf’s head slowly down to hers.

Their lips touched, and something in her rose up and burst into life—an energy that could only come from the Old Gods. It rushed from the tips of her toes to the ends of her russet curls, and she knew she’d made the right choice.

Without meaning to, she moaned into his jaws.

"Fuck me."

The Wolf pulled away, a hungry grin on his lips.

"Since the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted nothing else.”

Laying her on the fur-piled bed, he smiled at her before licking his way down her body. Starting with her earlobes, he moved to her neck, her breasts, her belly, her hips, her thighs. The room was filled with nothing but the crackle of fire and the quiet echoes of Red’s moans and gasps. Every last inch of her body broke into goosebumps. It felt like being licked by warm moonlight.

What a big tongue he had!

When he reached the cleft of her sex, the Wolf growled and thrust his head between her legs. This transition between gentle and feral caught Red off-guard, and the energy in her body blazed brighter. She arched her back and spread her legs wider. She could feel his hunger, and she wanted it. She wanted all of it.

The Wolf’s soft-furred body quivered as his tongue lapped and slapped against her. Red sank her hands into his back and released a long, reverberating moan.

"Fuuuuucck!"

As if obeying her command, the Wolf rose from between her legs and pulled her to him. Their eyes drew level, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, filling her with the taste of herself. Salt and tang and something else, almost citrusy. Moments later, Red felt him hard against her.

Oh, what a big cock he had!

***

Outside, the trees echoed with the sounds of the forest. Owls hooted and swooped through the dark while foxes screamed into the night. Red was a puddle of pleasure, slowly melting into the furs of the bed. The Wolf’s hips rolled in a steady rhythm, and waves of ecstasy shook her as he delved deeper and deeper. The energy in her body ebbed and flowed in answer to his thrusts, and she could feel the power mounting, gathering like a storm in reverse. A tempest of light.

Without warning he spun her around and pressed her face into the pillows. His fingers spread her folds from behind, and—with a groan—slipped into her again. She gasped as his hardness touched her at a new angle, and she shifted her hips to make the sensation even more intense. His pounding increased as his hands caressed her back and ass with a sense of swelling need. She could tell he was getting close.

Through her haze of pleasure, her face still buried deep in the pillows, Red’s mind drifted to the Old Gods and her sacred duty. She felt the darkness wrapped around her, inside her, pulling gasps from within her. But she wasn’t in control of it. Not yet. The darkness felt loose and savage. She had to tame it! She thought of the words of Granny-Willow. Embrace the Shadow—and ride it!

Before the Wolf had a chance to reach his ending, Red bucked her hips and rolled his body round, pinning him down between her thighs.

"Good boy," she whispered into his ear.

Then she lowered herself back onto his hungry length, and began to thrust forward and back, forward and back. The Wolf matched her pounding rhythm and growled hot desire beneath her. Faster and faster, and deeper and deeper they moved, until the feeling of energy filled Red’s body and her green-green heart burst with joy. Before her eyes swam the many faces of the Old Gods—horned and grinning with all the teeth of the wild world.

Red came with a howl that shook the cottage and echoed through the night.

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