Call of the Wild
Copyright© 2025 by EVHayes720
Chapter 5: (Natalie)
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 5: (Natalie) - Following a traumatic accident, Kal returns home with a gap in his memories. Strange dreams plague him as uncontrollable urges begin to rise.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Teenagers Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Mystery Paranormal Were animal Sister Cream Pie First Oral Sex
“Okay, I think you’re all set,” Natalie’s dad said, brows raised in thought as he ticked items off on his fingers. “Dave and Greg both saw you and can vouch that you were here for the week. Got pictures of us hunting as well. Got your school confirmation that you’d be here for vacation. Yeah, I think that should be it.”
Natalie’s dad had approached this crisis like any other problem in his life; cold and methodically. While helpful in containing the fallout, it left much to be desired from an emotional support standpoint. Ever in motion, he’d tackled one issue after another, devising fallback scenarios and buttoning up even the slightest possibility that her alibi could be breached. It was disconcerting how blasé he was about the whole ‘eating people alive’ thing.
“Mm-hmm,” Natalie agreed listlessly, knees drawn to her chest as she sat on her bed, still in her pajamas. Outside the loose T and shorts, she’d hardly changed or gone out unless absolutely necessary.
“Remember, if anyone asks, you left early the first day of your vacation, taking the bus out to Edmonton. Your mother picked you up, and you’ve been here since.”
“I know, dad.”
“At the next full moon, head out to your spot in the forest. Don’t take any chances. Expect to change, and if you don’t, be pleasantly surprised.”
“Yes, dad.”
“And we’ll need to figure out what’s going on with your boyfriend,” he said, scratching his beard in thought. “He’s not one of us, right? Maybe some kind of mutation?”
Here came the elephant in the room ... or rather, the raging mammoth. They couldn’t accept that Kal was human, not that she could blame them, so their theories began with the paranormal and then spiraled from there. As far as anyone knew, both extended family and her dad’s network of ‘friends’, there was no cure or way to prevent their turning. He still played it close to the vest, not sharing any details, but all answers pointed to one truth; once bitten, a werewolf was a wolf until they day they died, changing with the full moon without recourse.
“No, dad,” Natalie said, her forehead propped against her knees. “He’s not a werewolf.”
“Did he bite you? Like when you were, ah, you know...”
“No, dad,” Natalie groaned.
“Well, maybe there’s something in him. Like, ah...”
“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” Natalie grumbled into her legs. There wasn’t a snowflake’s chance in hell she was going to have this conversation with him. Just basic sex ed back in high school had been more than he could handle, opting instead to enlist her mom and then retreating into the garage.
And, right on cue...
“Right, uh, let me grab your mother.”
“Dad! I don’t want—”
“Carol!” her dad yelled down the hall, fleeing from this awkward conversation.
The only thing worse than trying to have a stilted ‘birds and the bees’ conversation with him was trying to have the same with her mom. While he couldn’t finish a sentence about anything sex related, her mother was the exact opposite. She meant well, but the woman had zero boundaries and overshared everything.
And she did mean everything.
The cursed knowledge of how her dad apparently liked having his nipples nibbled or that the mating press was how each of them had been conceived would forever haunt her subconscious.
“Did you need me sweety?” her mom asked from the door, dressed in her morning yoga outfit. Maybe werewolves just naturally gravitated toward burning off energy through activity, as everyone in the family, except her dad, shared the same lean runner’s frame.
“No, mom,” Natalie said in exasperation as she rolled back onto her bed. “I don’t—”
“Ask her about her boyfriend,” her dad yelled from down the hall. “That thing we talked about. About what set off the change. That thing.”
“Oh,” her mother said, recognition dawning in her cerulean eyes. “Well, that’s easy enough. Scoot over dear.”
The bed sagged as her mother sat uninvited beside her.
“Before that, though,” her mother said, squeezing her hand comfortingly, “how are you feeling?”
“About what?” Natalie grumbled. “How my life sucks? How I still can’t eat a meal without thinking about coughing up someone’s fingers? Or about this conversation?”
“Still thinking about it, huh?”
“Obviously! I killed and ate people!”
“Well, these things do happen sometimes.”
“Great talk, mom.”
“Honey, you can’t beat yourself up about it. It wasn’t you. We can’t control it. All we can do is minimize the damage.”
“And that’s it? We just brush it off and say ‘oh well’?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, sweetheart. We can, and should, grieve. We should do what we can to make things better and keep people safe, but we can’t live our lives hating or isolating ourselves. We’re people, just like everyone else ... we just have to be a bit more careful around the full moon than others.”
“Except me,” Natalie said. “I’m now a double freak because I don’t even know when I’ll turn.”
“Well, step one would be to figure that out, isn’t it? Step two is then looking to minimize the impact and step three is living with it.”
The patented three-step approach to all of mom’s challenges: analyze, mitigate and progress. That consulting brain of hers always distilled things into these categories. Being pragmatic ran thick in their veins apparently.
“Now, you said you felt anger when you turned, right?” her mother asked, taking the silence as permission to continue, though she would have done so regardless of what Natalie had said. “I think that means you have more of an emotional trigger now. To minimize the risk of relapses, you should focus on meditation. Analyze what you are feeling and work to manage it.”
It wasn’t the worst advice she’d ever received. Given how agitated she’d been with Noah, it was a fair assumption that the wolf had been triggered by the rush of negative emotion. Unfortunately, peace of mind was not something that necessarily came easily to her. Stamping down and bottling up her emotions was more her go-to strategy, which likely wouldn’t fly anymore.
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