The moonlight washed across the forest floor, broken by the canopy. The air smelt of damp moss, earth, and blood. The trail was getting weaker, the patches of blood smaller, the scent harder to pick up. She put her nose in the air, closed her eyes and listened. Crickets sang their melody and the tree frogs their symphony. She let out a low howl from the bottom of her chest, and it rose to meet the mother moon in the sky, long and lonesome. She paused again, just standing, waiting. *crack* there, her head jolted in the direction the sound came from, she didn't move, only watched. Movement. She bolted for it. Now was not the time for stealth. She heard the animal cry out with fear, watched it stumble as it tried desperately to get away. Not this time. This was it's end. White gleaming ivory, hard and smooth, punctured the warm soft hide. A gush of hot garnet liquid rushed from the wound, swirling around the smooth white ivory and into the mouth of the beast. Flowing over it's tongue with it's warm, sweet, metallic taste. The taste of blood, the taste of life, seeped down her throat. She fed more hungrily, snapping down harder. Pushing those ivory spears of death, deeper, and deeper into the neck of of her prey.
Gargled cries of pain echoed out of the victim's throat, only to be choked out by the viscious growls of the feeding beast. She sank her long sharp claws into the body of her prey and ripped it, shredded it to pieces. She let out a long deep roar that pierced the silence of the forest and started to lap at the blood flowing like crimson rivers from the body of her prey. She continued to feed until there was nothing left of her victim, no trace of existence remained. She had crushed bone with teeth, and sliced through flesh with precise ease. With her bloodied muzzle raised high to the full moon, she let out a howl, long and triumphant. The song of the wolf.

His touch was powerful. Not mean, not rough, but strong and precise. Wrapped in an aura of pleasure, I could feel his energy, his strength and oh how it moved me. Tightly holding me, teasing me with thoughts of what could come, but distracting me from everything but his hands exploring my body, running over every curve, touching me in just the right way. His hot breath in my ear, the sound of his beating heart, and his body pushed up against mine, holding me from behind.

It was electric, magnetic, pure attraction. He was experienced and new what he was doing. Touch me here, and I move like this, caress me here and I move like that. I don't know how many times he made me melt in his arms. And now I wonder if he knew just how badly I wanted him.

Like a lick of fire upon my back the whip landed again, but I didn't flinch. I was enjoying it too much, who knew such pain could be such intense pleasure. Again, and then again harder, this time I did flinch and instead of another kiss from the whip, it was his gentle calming touch, and any sense of pain melted away. He held me tight then, kissing my neck and running his hands over my body, talking to me softly. I couldn't have asked for a better first experience.