Chapter 10

It was deep into winter, late January or maybe even February, I didn't know, when I was out for my early morning toilet. My body was working perfectly and I was as healthy as I'd ever been in my life, despite spending many hours every day outside in the cold and damp of a Washington winter. It rained a lot, and snowed often too, but only rarely did the snow last more than a few days. Above us, in the hills and mountains, I could see the permanent snowline and the wind coming down from the northeast was always freezing.

I would run though, pumping hot blood through my veins and enjoying the sensations being outside always brought. I was strong and tough, with lean muscles and calloused feet. It was cold, of course, and some days I couldn't stay out as long as I'd have liked, mostly because my Master would keep a sharp eye on me and call me reluctantly inside. And then I'd warm myself in the fur of my brothers, pressing my feet and hands against their bellies, pressing my red nose and cheeks between their thighs. They didn't complain over this rough treatment, but welcomed me and they'd lick and nuzzle my body until we were wrestling and that was always fun.

When I'd first arrived I'd been weak and soft, little more than a puppy, but now I could hold my own and our playing was often rough. I used my hands, of course, which was the only real advantage I had, but I was quick as well. My reflexes had improved and I learned to read my brothers well, anticipating their movements. And while I got my fair share of scratches and bites, more often than not I could force any one of them down, wrapping my legs around him as I pushed his heads up and back, baring the dog's throat to my teeth and I'd bite him hard, but only barely able to break the skin at all.

It was fun and exhausting and utterly exciting as we always ended up mating soon after. I found that I enjoyed getting Bush on his back the most because he always became excited when we wrestled. His long red cock would slip from its sheath and stay hard more often than not, so that I could straddle him and press his cock into my sex that way. He would lay there patiently, while I rode his penis and he would even let me kiss him, which had become a new thing for us. I would lick his mouth and slip my tongue over his sharp teeth, teasing him until he would chase it into mine. His long tongue would lick and explore my mouth then, or I would suck it until he jerked his head trying to free himself and then come back for more. And all the while I would be fucking myself silly on his penis.

Our Master enjoyed these games quite a lot and he'd taken to coming into our room with his morning coffee and the paper, just relaxing while we wrestled for his amusement. The room was well insulated and warm and if there was a heaven on earth for dogs, I think my brothers and I would have agreed that we were living in it.

The one morning it was early when I went out, still very dark and it had snowed during the night. I left my brothers sleeping, slipping outside and sniffing the crisp air, feeling that little shock as I stepped ankle deep through the hard, crispy surface of the snow. The air was warm though, or at least there wasn't much of a wind, which I appreciated.

I stretched briefly and it felt good like that, so I ran, which made it even better. I'd grown to love exercising, as all dogs do, and running across the uneven fields towards the stream was just enough to speed up my heart and warm the blood in my veins. My breath left small clouds of fog behind me and I only wished that I had real legs instead of arms, so that I wouldn't have to run upright all the time, which seemed awkward and alien to me.

I was washing myself in the stream, which had just a little ice forming along the banks where the water moved slowly. It was bitterly cold, of course, and I rubbed my hands over my body briskly, spending most of my attention on my sex and lower, washing my ass thoroughly. It was stimulating and refreshing, not so much sexually as just naturally, like I might have been the only person on the earth during those moments, and not really a person at all, but a part of nature.

Then I caught his scent, just barely on a small breeze that came and went so quickly I might have imagined it. He'd been careful, I knew, trying to stay downwind, but the air was fickle and I'd found him. My heart seemed to expand as it pumped hot blood through my veins and I felt my stomach tighten, my legs grew tense, the muscles taut like springs. My hands had become like claws without me realizing it. I was crouched there, in the water, staring at a dense thicket of leafless brush behind my right shoulder.

It took a second or two before I could discern him in the dim light. It was very dark and the moon was but half-full and low in the western sky, but there he was a shadow hiding in the shadows. It was his eyes that gave him away, narrow slits of yellow, and then the breeze picked up again and I shivered from either the cold or more likely his musky scent, the invisible stain that brought a flood of adrenaline and urged me to move.

I didn't turn quite towards him, but moved at an angle, keeping my body low and my head down. I splashed softly across the stream and then stepped onto the bank, moving slowly to be sure of my footing. My feet were getting a little numb and any other morning I would have been on my way back home by now, but I couldn't run, not yet, that would have been bad for many reasons.

He moved with me and I heard more than saw the rustling branches, the shadows melting together so that I lost sight of him in the confusion. But he was there, I could sense him now and I knew what he wanted. I growled softly, not so much a warning as it was an invitation, rather like teasing him for being so timid with me. It was a challenge as well, telling him that if he wanted me, he'd have to take me. He'd have to prove his worth. And when I heard his soft voice reply, I took off, laughing silently with my mouth open wide, grinning at this new and unexpected game.

My nipples were hard and burning against the cold morning, and steam rose from my body as I became flushed with excitement. I ran along the edge of the fields, jumping and skipping on occasion, ducking quickly as my reflexes worked to avoid branches and stones and fallen, half-hidden logs from years long past. It was exhilarating and I no longer noticed the morning chill or the snow under my feet. He was chasing me and I wasn't running to safety.

The sound of his footsteps grew heavy, the steady panting of his breath seemed to lick at my heels as I ran. He was close upon me and when he lept into the still morning air, I sensed it. The rhythm of his gait suddenly changed and I dodged left, side stepping and bending my body so that the wolf seemed to fly past me, his head turning and jaws snapping at the air where my right shoulder had been a split second before.

And then I was on him, springing before the animal even landed, so that as he tried to turn I was falling onto his thickly furred back, grabbing deep handfuls of coarse hair and skin. My legs spread over his hindquarters so that I scissored them instinctively, trying to lock my ankles beneath his belly, pressing my heels between his powerful thighs.

The wolf had been turning to his left, trying to stop himself, and my momentum took us to his right so that he lost his balance completely and I pulled him over. I was on my right side in the snow, and so was the wolf now, with my legs around him and my hands digging into his shoulders. The wolf's head turned left, his eyes red and furious and filled with lust. I could feel his cock hard and expanding from its sheath beneath my feet. I brought my right hand up quickly, sliding it under the animal's chin and pressing with my palm, fingers wide and spread to avoid his razor teeth. I pushed his head up as I brought my own head down, finding the wolf's throat and I bite him there, finding the thinnest part of his skin, tasting his hair and feeling his flesh under my teeth.

He shook his head wildly, but I held him with all of my strength using my position and weight for leverage, keeping the wolf on his side. His legs scrambled for purchase in the snow and against the frozen earth beneath. I held his head so that his long snout was pointed upward, his jaws closed under the strain of my arm and hand. And I had his throat in my mouth, for perhaps 20 seconds, long enough for the animal to know that I had him. I could have killed him right then if I'd wanted, ripped into his jugular and bathed in his blood.

It had been a a short and quiet fight, with little more than grunts and soft growls, but now the wolf gave a guttural whine, low and gravelly, but distinctive and yielding. I let go of him with my teeth and then relaxed my grip enough so that he could scramble away if he wanted to. Of course the wolf didn't move, not right away, he just lay there, looking at me as we both panted for air.