In Heat

She Wolf

"One look in her lusting eyes

Savage fear in you will rise

Teeth of terror sinking in

The bite of the she wolf"

- Megadeth

I awoke.

I was naked and in a glistening snowfield. It was freezing, but I wasn't cold. The cold never bothered me much. Besides, I splattered my taut tiny body with still-warm blood. Lying in the snow at my feet was a man. I did not recognize him. This kill was fresh.

The corpse was a mangled mess.

I have a tendency to ravage.

So much red in that white. The sheer volume of blood the human body holds never ceased to amaze me. I severed the jugular arteries with fang and claw, and the blood spurted outward in each direction. The splashes of blood radiated outward from each side of the neck, creating the illusion of wings. A lovely little snow angel. My lovely little snow angel. I've never been much for the arts, but for killing, I was an artiste.

I ripped the stomach open, and his insides were out, and the vital organs were missing.

Because I ate them.

I guess I could skip breakfast.

The flesh of the heart is tough to chew, but it was my absolute favorite. I craved the mastication.

A dog with her bone.

The force of the moon vanished, and it was still dark, but I could see. Darkness never bothered me much.

The birds were singing. It was time to get gone.

Where am I?

A forest, but who the fuck knew which one. Alaska is a forest.

I could have been anywhere.

I searched the for my clothing. I found was my black leather jacket and boots. I had no clue where my other articles of clothing were. It didn't matter, though. I always wore my Goodwill best when it neared "that time of the month." I went through a bunch of clothing. But my boots and jacket? I never lost those. I fucked in those. And besides, leather is skin, doesn't stain, and can be scrubbed clean. I didn't want to clean them. I was lazy that way. So I made a quick knot with the laces, tied the boots together, and tossed them around my neck. The jacket I folded up and tuck under my arm.

I sniffed the cool air and smelled water.

Alone and in the woods, I didn't have to hide who I was. This was my domain. My territory. My home. So I sprinted, a feral beast on the wind, and faster than any other human.

Usain Bolt ain't got shit on me.

Before I knew it, I was at a stream. I set my jacket and boots on a nearby fallen tree. I had to piss, so I squatted and did so. And urine wasn't the only thing I leaked.

Fuck! Goddamn it.

I let him come in me.

I was better than that. I must have been extra aroused and a puddle. I was the one who told him to come inside me. It was a pleasant sensation. Those last flexes before a male orgasm were nice. Melt.

Fuck! Goddamn it.

I've always been fertile. Birth control didn't work for shit on me. I tried them everyone. I'd get pregnant if a dude jacked of in the room next to me. That's a joke. Werefolk aren't like that. Even in a manic state, before a transformation, I could keep my faculties. But I was in heat.

I want to come.

Fuck! Goddamn it.

I needed to cool off the nether.

The water was icy when I entered, but the chill never bothered me much. I bent into a crouch and scrubbed myself. I made quick work of it, this was nothing new. Soon, I was squeaky clean. It was a bitch to get the caked blood out of my hair without shampoo. I got most of it. That was why I kept my hair short. I had a shaved undercut with face-framing bangs that hung to my chin, the longest point. The style was sexy and badass. I dug it.

I wished I had my detangling comb.

I wished I didn't have to get another abortion.

If I was pregnant, it would make this my third abortion since my sixteenth birthday, and I had turned eighteen less than a month ago. It was annoying, but I healed fast. It came with the curse. That's what I called it. The curse. Sure, it had its gifts: speed, strength, and every sense heightened. I was a fledgling and I learned the curse with time. I didn't have anyone to answer my questions, just lore. And there was an abundance of lore, and much of it was utter bullshit.

Silver isn't bullshit, though. Silver sucks ass.

I was then clean, so I shrugged my jacket on and slipped into my boots, and gave them a quick tie. I didn't even bother lacing the other six eyelets. I never did, so I could ditch them in a pinch of sudden and unwarned transformation. That happened sometimes. My changes came with the moon, and I was more regular with them; then, I was my periods. But sometimes, when I rabid or extra horny, I could transform and without warning. It sucked and made for awkward and hasty exits, but si la ves.

I could hear a car, no… a truck. V8. I was near the road. Half a mile or so away. I moved, and I was there. I could see the truck coming. It was big and cran-apple maroon.

Trucks mean men. Fuck.

Men had uses, but a tendency to ask for more than they needed to know. And they wanted to play the hero. The savior.

Fuck! I hope the driver's not a man.

If I'm lucky, the driver will be a lesbian.

In two-inch heels and on an agreeable day, I stood five feet tall. I was a petty thing with small tits, but I had a firm ass and a hard body. I assumed the muscle tone came with the lycanthropy. I didn't know for sure because I had never met another of my kind, to the best of my knowledge. I hadn't been bitten, I hadn't "turned." One day I just was. My first transformation came with the first full moon after my first period. It was an uncomfortable month.

The driver of the truck was cautious because of the icy early morning conditions. I zipped my jacket up and made a quick knot in the leather belt tie. My jacket was a standard size, but I was so small that it fit was a too-short dress, but long enough to cover my muff. The last thing I wanted to do was flaunt was my pussy. My tight, barely legal, unshaved pussy. That wouldn't lead me to evicerating a rapist.

I stepped out from the bracken. I was on the opposite side of the road as the truck neared. I waved a hand. The truck drove past, crossed lanes, and pulled over and onto the shoulder. And I hustled after it, boots sliding on the frigid earth beneath me. I took a deep breath as I approached the passenger side door.

Be a lesbian, be a lesbian, please be a lesbian.

No, better yet.

Be a grandma, be a grandma, please be a grandma.

There was an audible click, and the doors unlocked. I opened the door. In the driver's seat and with a "big ol' smile" may as well have been Thor or Ragnar fucking Lothbrok. The guy was a goddamn Viking. And my naked ass had just made his week.

I scoffed and jumped into seat.

"How can I be of service to you, little lady?"

Little lady.

It was always "little" lady this. Or Baby Girl that.

Is everyman a fucking chi-mos?

I must be Lolita. Where's my goddamn lollipop?

"You can shut the fuck up and drive." I snarled.

The Viking laughed.

"Jesus, Sweetheart. Must be that time of the month."

It was my turn to laugh.

"You have no fucking idea. Drive or I'm getting out."

The Viking popped the truck into drive.

"No, no. We don't need any of that." He said and pulled off the shoulder of the road and into the correct lane. "Forgive me my trespasses, little Freya. It's not every day I pick up a tiny half-naked goddess on the side of the road in the dead of winter. I must be dreaming."

The Viking's eyes took me in, every bit of it, and raised an eyebrow.

"Am I dreaming?"

"You will be when I lay you the fuck out if you look at me like that again."

The Viking found this most hilarious. "You must be on the rag. PMS much? Try some fucking gratitude?"

The Viking was silent and drove.

The silence was splendid, but it would be short lived. It was unlikely that this asshold would drop me off and say, "Cheerio, have a delightful day."

If only.

"Honey, you must be freezing. Let me turn up the heat." He gave a wink and then leaned across the center seat and fiddled with a knob, not the only knob he wanted to fiddle with, for sure.

Fucking pig.

"I'm fine."

"It's no trouble."

"I'm fine," I said. "It's too hot in here."

"Whatever you say, crazy."

The Viking turned the heat off.

And was silent once more.

But for only a minute.

"How d'you end up on the side of the road, naked and shit?" He said.

"I don't care to say."

"Honey, are you in trouble?"

I tossed him a big-eyed, helpless look.

"My strong Mister-Man, are you going to save me?"

"I…"

"I, what?"

The Viking shook his head, speechless.

"No. I mean. Fuck it."

He was silent again, but for thirty-seconds.

"Let's start again."

He offered me his hand.

I looked at it with scorn and scoffed.

"I'm Todd."

"I. Don't. Care."

Viking Todd laughed.

"Ain't you just a peach."

He was silent, but for ten-seconds.

"Fuck it." Viking Todd pulled swerved onto the shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Pulling over is what I'm doing."

"Why?" Viking Todd shook his head. "Because you can get the fuck out. That's why."

Viking Todd put the truck in park.

"I was trying to be a gentleman. But you fucked that. Now lady, you got two choices. You can at least show me your titties. Now, I ain't going to ask you for a fuck or suck, though if you felt so obliged, I won't complain. But, the least you can do is let me jack off while you show me your titties. Those perky little things have taste as sweet as honey. I bet that pussy is even sweeter. Then, we can mosey on our day. I'll even stop somewhere and get you a pair of pants and a shirt, so you don't have to go walking around wherever you need to get buck ass naked."

I smiled. "And my second choice?"

"Option two?" Viking Todd smiles, "You don't want option two."

"Try me."

"You can prance your tight little ass on out of my truck and walk to wherever the fuck you need to go. Figure you won't last long, though. It's at least a thirty-minute drive to the next town, and I ain't seen another vehicle on this road for an hour at least. You know we're on a logging road, right? And it ain't logging season."

Viking Todd smirked, smug motherfucker.

"So. You only have one choice."

"Do I now?" I'm was getting bored with this blather. "Todd, there's always a third option."

"Oh, and what's that?"

I forgot to mention, I have a grim sense of humor if you hadn't gathered. And I act without thinking and do whatever comes to my morbid little mind.

This instant was no different.

"I don't appreciate being told what to do, when it involves sexual acts. I prefer those to be consensual, ya' know."

Viking Todd nodded and smiled. "Oh, yeah. I get you. Me too"

"Take that pecker out and prove to me that your truck isn't just an extension."

"Wait. What?" I dumbfounded Viking Todd. "You're serious."

I winked at him because I could.

"I'm as serious as I am wet right. And Mister Todd, I am so fucking wet."

God, I'm dreadful.

Viking Todd's eyes went wide.

"Uh���" I flustered Todd. "Uh… okay."

He unhooked his belt.

"Come on now, hurry. It ain't going to' suck itself." I sad and licked my lips because I could.

And he pulled his cock out.

It was a hefty thing. Not impressive, but not shabby either. It a thick piece of meat. Now, as I mentioned before, I have a twisted sense of humor. And I was in heat. Even this forced tryst had got me all worked up. There's no way I'd fuck this motherfucker, in heat or not, but I cherish dick. And I have a thing for killing. Twisted sense of humor. Loves to fuck. Loves to kill. Now, I'm not proud of what happened next, but I am. Sorry, not sorry. If fact, I'm laughing as I remember this.

I tucked my bangs behind my ear and leaned over and opened my supple little mouth as I approach his member. Todd thought I was going to suck it, his squirt-hole puckered. You think I'm going to chomp on it. But you both are wrong.I'm not a monster. He didn't see coming, and neither will you.

I've never had an eating disorder, well… I guess cannibalism is an eating disorder, but I don't consider myself myself a cannibal. I'm not even sure I'm the same species as humans. What I'm getting at is that I've never been bulimic. I've never made myself vomit because I thought I was too fat. I'm a tiny paltry thing and ate a high protein diet.

But, when you've been binge eating and have a belly full of human organs and a pint of blood or more in your stomach, you felt bloated. It's best to relieve that bloat.

So I made myself gag, and I vomited on his cock.

It was a hot and sanguine mess and had the reek of an abattoir. I spew forth hunks of flesh and chunks of organ. And his dick tip was sticking up, a candle on a birthday meat cake, ready to be blown out.

Viking Todd screamed as no Viking ever. It was shrill and hurt my sensitive ears. A dog whistle. Now, I'm not sexist or an anti-feminist, but you must pardon me if you take offense by this next bit. But he screamed like a petty bitch, and he wouldn't shut the fuck up.

But I felt better.

My ears hurt, but my gut was right.

And then I noticed in the meat piled up on his penis was an eyeball. A complete eyeball.

I needed to get better at chewing my food.

And I picked it up and popped it into my mouth and bared my teeth. I clamped on it, and optical jelly squirted out, a cherry tomato, and right into Viking Todd's face. That shut him up, for sure. And then he started screaming again. With my left hand, my weak hand, and gripped his cock and balls at the base and squeezed. Hard. And yanked. Severing it. Balls and all.

Now Viking Todd lost it. And my ears hurt, and it annoyed me. I wanted to slap him across the face with his dick. That sound it could make this whole ordeal worthwhile. But, that's lurid. I'm not a monster. The man deserved his dignity. So, with his bits and pieces clenched in my fist, I socked him square in the jaw as hard as I could, which is pretty fucking hard. His chin buckled and bounced off of his chest, and there was a snap. And he was silent.

Fuck! Goddamn it.

I think I killed him.

Whoops.

I dropped the dick onto the floor and listened. I couldn't hear his heart beating anymore.

Yup, I killed him.

I mean, I could have resuscitated him, but there was no way in hell that I was going mouth to mouth with an asshole. So I shrugged.

Fuck it.

I'm walking.

I may have killed two men in the last few hours and ate most of one of them, but I'm wasn't a thief.

Again, not a monster.

I hopped out and did stretched, limbering up.

It was going to be one long fucking jog with my ass hanging out, but I had to hustle.

I couldn't be late for class, again.

And I was on the move