Red and the Wolf

Red and the Wolf

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


The story of Red Riding Hood with a bit of a twist ;)


The story of Red Riding Hood with a bit of a twist ;)


Submitted: October 02, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: October 02, 2013



The darkness is starting to close in. The leering shadows of the trees stretch long and thin along the dirty ground. There is still maybe a hour of sunlight left before the black completely consumes the forest.

A figure passes through the moonlight. A blood red cape swoops around the trunk of a tree, blasting dry leafs into the air. Red keeps her head forward, her eyes peeled for the dangers that lurk around these woods. She has passed through them on this very same journey many times and knows these woods like the back of her hand. She also knows the beasts that hide in the shadows, ready to pounce.

She keeps a tight grip of her muffin basket as she skirts around the trees. A large gust of skin tingling cold air whips her hood from her head, sending her long, silky black hair into a wild frenzy. She hurriedly brushes the strands from her face as her sudden obstructed view sends her heart pounding.

A light in the distance flickers and she smiles. Her Grandmother’s cottage sits just on the outskirts of the woods. Her Grandfather had been a hunter when he was alive and enjoyed having nature on his backdoor step. But Red fretted about her Grandmother’s safety now. Out here, alone. Sure, the nearest village was only a short walk away but Red knew too much about the woods that seems to grow thicker every time she makes this visit, as if it is creeping up on her Grandmother, ready to devour her home.

Her heavy boots trudge up her Grandmother’s garden path with no grace of a lady. Red may have a face that never failed to turn a man’s head and a body that every young woman would die for, but that didn’t matter to her. Red was fierce. A force to be reckoned with. She had a heart of a lion and the great hunting skills of her Grandfather.

But even after being hardened to the world, the sight before her made her halt and her heart to sink to her feet. A rabbit lay by the side of the path with its insides torn out. Blood pooled around the carcass. That didn’t unsettle her. It was the bloody paw prints that let up to her Grandmother’s front door that did. They gleamed in the moonlight like oil on water. She followed them, a lump swelling bigger and bigger in her throat with every step.

Claw marks covered the front door, criss-crossing in savage swipes, thick and deep enough to make the wood curl back. The lock was broken, beaten off, and the door swung slightly with an eerie creak.

Red slips into her stealth mode and slips through the gap in the door when the breeze widens it, making sure to not make a sound.

A man stands with his back to her at the foot of her Grandmother’s bed. He’s tall with thick shoulders and a slim waist. He’s wearing a dark ill-fitting linen shirt that is darkened in places with clotted blood, making the linen stick to his body and extenuating the ripples of his muscular back. Her eye line casts downwards, taking in his dark britches and heavy boots caked in mud.

The floorboard creaks under her slender frame. She gulps as the man spins round. His tousled black hair sticks to his forehead in curls and is slick with sweat and blood. His dark eyes widen and he throws his hands up into the air that are also slick with crimson. He’s a young man, older than Red but maybe only by a couple of years. His tanned face is also smeared with blood, mostly on his cheeks and chin.

Red blinks hard and thinks fast, dropping her basket and drawing out the sword from her sheath that is hidden under her cloak. It slips free with a metallic swish. She spins it in a gracious arc and trains it on the intruder.

“Who are you?” she demands in a voice so harsh, you would have never have expected it to pass her plush red lips.

“I-I’m Peter,” the man stutters, lifting his palms higher and cringing back from the sword. “I-I’m the baker’s son. Your Grandmother always buys bread from our shop, every Tuesday without fail. S-she never showed this morning so I thought I’d better check up on her t-to make sure she was okay.”

Red narrows her eyes calculatingly then finally shifts her eyes away from the man and looks to her Grandmother’s bed. Her stomach twists into a painful knot. Its empty. The covers are drawn back and painted red. Her night hat is on the floor, ripped apart and oozing blood.

“Where is she?” she demands after swallowing her grief.

“S-she was in pieces when I got here. I-I was cleaning up. Disposing of the body.”

Her eyes turn to slits as she edges closer. Peter gulps heavily and takes a step back, only to be blocked by the bed.

“Why, why do that?”

“I-it was the least I could do.” Hesitantly, he holds his hand out to her, signalling for her to take it. “I-I’m here to help. Please.” She looks at it cautiously before taking it in a firm grip. She holds onto his hand, rubbing her palm slightly against his, feeling the callousness of his skin and the dryness of the blood that paints it. His fingernails are long, black and scuffed. She grits her teeth and lets go, lifting her sword so it sits under his chin. Peter gasps, his dark eyes alight with fear.

“You are no baker’s son,” she hisses. “I can tell by your hands.” She angles her sword to the side and grabs his chin, pulling him down to her level. He gasps again as she brings her nose to his lips. The rancid smell of his breath makes the knot in her stomach tighten. She quickly leans back and presses the tip of her sword to his throat.

“Blood,” she seethes. “There’s blood on your breath. You’re one of them, aren’t you? A wolf-man.”

His face seems to crack, like a mask falling free. A wicked grin replaces the look of sheer panic. His dark eyes dance with amusement.

“Well, not just a pretty face are you? Tell me how you know of us.” His stutter has completely disappeared and is replaced with a tone that’s dark and confident.

“I’ve met many of you before.” Her teeth grit at the memories.

His black eyebrow arches. “Really? No one has mentioned that we’ve been spotted.”

“That’s because none of them have lived to tell the tale.”

“Reeaally?” Peter laughs smugly. “Well, aren’t you something special? Y’know, between you and me, I’ve always loved the feisty ones. They’re so much more fun.”

She clenches her hand into a fist by her side, almost shuddering with rage.

“You killed my Grandmother. You killed her and ate her.”

“That I did.” He pats his firm stomach. “And I thought I was full. Your Grandmother was a rather chunky lady. But looking at you-” His hungry eyes lick up every inch of her. She was divine. One of most beautiful girls he’d ever seen. She must have been only eighteen years old.

Her hair was as black as a raven’s feather. Her skin was as pale as snow. And her lips were as blood red as the cloak that covered her completely from neck to toe. A low growl rumbles in his throat at the thought of tearing it open and indulging himself with the heavenly body he knew would be hidden underneath. “You are really starting to wet my appetite.”

Her skin prickles with gooseflesh. He tries to approach her. She snarls and swings her sword back. His eyes widen as she swings in back with malice, aiming for his neck. “You sick bastard! Don’t touch me!”

He dodges the blade and retaliates, jamming his elbow into her jaw. The sickening crunch of cracking teeth shatters inside her skull, making her feel queasy as he eyes roll back at the impact. In her current unsteady state, Peter twists her wrist and she releases her sword with a cry. He kicks the fallen blade backwards, out of her reach.

Before she comes back to her senses, he grabs her hips and pushes her back, locking her between his body and the wall. He rips at the button fastening her cape at her neck, so it falls to the floor. She gasps and tries to cover herself but his big hand clamps around hers and he yanks it up over her head. He grabs her other hand and does the same with a vicious grin. Holding both her hands in one of his, he brings his other hand back down to her waist to try and contain her wriggling. Her skin crawls with the sensation of his body heat enclosing around her. He smells damp and dirty like the woods.

A heavy puff of air leaves his nose as his eyes swipe over her body. Her dress covers her modestly, he should have known seeing as though she had come to visit her Grandmother. It was a white dress with cuffed sleeves at the tops of her arms. A black bodice nipped her in at the waist and accentuated her breasts that spilled over the top but kept them completely covered. The hem stopped just above her knees which were the only parts of her legs visible due to the thigh high white socks that were  decorated with innocent looking red bows. But her boots spoiled her outfit. They show her true identity.

Red has faced fear many times in her life and she has grown to enjoy it. It seemed like it was the only time she ever felt alive. It came to a point that whenever she heard something go bump in the night and her skin would prickle and her stomach would flutter, she could not decipher whether it was with terror or arousal. She had that feeling now as she was pinned chest to chest with the beast that had just killed her Grandmother. His dark eyes are so close to hers she can see her own reflection in them.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” she snaps, thrashing her against the wall.

“Oh, I am going to.” He grins. She grits her teeth when he idly strokes the apex of her thigh with his thumb. “But first, I’m going to unravel you. I’m going to turn your world upside down and make you love every minute of it.” He presses his forehead against hers so their noses touch. He expels a heavy sigh of want. “I’m going to take you. I’m going to fuck you on the very same bed I killed your Grandmother. Then I’m going to devour you completely.” She whimpers a little and her knees buckle as she feels something hard press against her thigh. “Because I’m the predator and you’re the prey. That is how it is supposed to be. And that is how it will always be. And you will die knowing that.”

He leans back, inspecting her face and smiles when she doesn’t attempt to escape. She just stands there, looking up at him. Her black eyes heavy and waiting. Her plump lips slightly parted as she expels measured breathes.

Still holding her hands above her head, he uses his other one to bunch up her dress high enough so he can slip his hand underneath without having to bend. She hisses at his warm touch on her inner thigh and her body jerks fitfully.

“Shhh…” he whispers softly, holding her gaze as his fingers travel upwards. His fingertips brush up her slit. He grins smugly. She’s wet. Wet for him. She growls her revulsion as her stomach knots and she flicks her hips to the side to try and break the contact, suddenly very aware of how disturbing this situation is. It was even more disturbing that she was sort of enjoying it. Being pinned up, towered over and abused…this is the most alive she had ever felt. Red was a strong, independent woman and no one had ever made her feel as vulnerable as Peter is now.

“It’s rather handy that your Grandmother lives in such a secluded location. No one is going to hear you scream,” he laughs darkly.

Her eyes narrow determinedly. “I don’t scream.”

He grins. His teeth stained red with blood. “We’ll see about that.”

His fingertip swirls round her aching entrance teasingly. She growls again with a shudder, breaking eye contact. She cringes when she feels his hot breath on her ear.

“Give in to me, Red,” he croons.

Her body stiffens as her heart pounds. She flips her head round to look up at him.

“How do you know my name?”

His dark grin widens. “It was what your Grandmother cried before I tore her heart out. I took a guess, and I was right I see.” He cups her pussy and starts to kneed her clit with the heel of his palm. Her mouth opens with a silent gasp and her hips flick upwards, meeting his rhythm. “That’s it…” He smiles, watching her pleasure cloud her black eyes as her lids flicker.

Her hands are screwed up into fists above her head as she tries to fight the feeling inside her. Her fluttering heart. Her aching centre. Her need…her need for more. She clenches her eyes shut, trying to pull herself away from reality, to close herself off from this exquisite torture. But the blackness of her eyelids just intensifies the heat that consumes her lower body. Soft whimpers start to pass her lips as two of his fingers slowly enter her. She arches her back, giving into the sensation.

Satisfaction crosses Peter’s face as he watches Red crumble before him, allowing him to take her however he wanted. Even better for him, she was enjoying it. That meant she was going to obey him, no questions asked. He wondered whether he should release her wrists so her hands could explore his body, but he decided against it. He liked the power it gave him.

As Peter picks up his rhythm with his fingers, Red starts to relish in her pleasure and moan unabashedly, thrashing her body against his and attempting to grind harder against his fingers. Peter’s breathing starts to hitch as the spongy inner walls of  Red’s pussy grip him gratefully, milking his fingers.

Her dark eyes flutter open and latch onto his. She gulps hard. He was a handsome man, there was no denying that. His black mane of wild curls that were clotted with blood and sweat, stopped just below his ears. His dark eyebrows were arched cruelly and his pointed, lupine nose made him look like the majestic Beast he turned into, even when in man form. Despite the putrid smell of blood that hit her face as he breathed, she wanted to kiss him and the look in his eyes as they flickered from her eyes to her lips told her that he was thinking the same.

But instead, he brought his lips to her neck. She turned to her away, exposing more of her skin to him. He licked a path up to her ear, making her shudder and her eyes to roll back. His nose brushed back down to her collarbone. She lets out a muted gasp when he parts his lips and scraped his lengthening canines across her shoulder. His pace on her pussy quickens as he growls, his eyes flashing yellow as he sinks his teeth into her neck viciously.

She screams. Her back arches. Tears pool in her eyes as he starts to feast on her blood that pours, thick and hot, down her front. At the same time, his rapidly thrusting fingers bring her to an excruciatingly powerful orgasm. Her body thrashes against him, as her muscles tighten and her pussy clamps down of his fingers, coating them with her arousal. She grips his thigh between hers as she climbs down from her climax, needing to keep herself stable.

He withdraws his teeth, licking up the crimson that coats her shoulder. She gasps when she turns her head and sees his blazing yellow eyes for a fraction of a second before they grow black once more.

“I told you I could make you scream,” he says.

He can see the fear that has blanched her face. Her breathing has hitched, short, sharp and desperate. Sensing her distress, he releases her wrists. He stiffens his body, expecting her to try and push him aside and escape. But she doesn’t. Instead, her hands grab his shoulders with a white knuckle grip as her wide, frantic eyes stay trained on his.

He pulls his fingers out of her and brings them to his lips. She watches in awe as he licks them clean, mixing the taste of her blood with her arousal on his tongue. That feeling bangs against her insides. The feeling she could never figure out of it was arousal or fear. But she did know now. She knew it was both.

He drops his hands and she hears the sound of him unbuttoning his britches. She pants her anticipation and gaps when he grabs her ass and hoists her up. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist and she groans deep in her throat at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into her inner thigh. She drops one hand from his shoulder and shifts her dress, pulling it up over her hips before grabbing his throbbing member and guiding it into her.

She lets out a whimpering moan as he stretches her, making him growl with savage lust, nuzzling her neck. Her grip on his shoulders tightens as he drops her down on him until his balls hit her entrance. She whimpers again, a soft, delicious sound down his ear as he starts to thrust in and out. Before Red can grow accustom to his impressive size, his pace quickens. Moans clatter in the back of her throat as she grips him with her thighs and starts to bounce against him. He kisses and licks her throat and the bare skin of her pale chest, letting out guttural groans of pleasure when he notices her hard nipples protruding out through the thin material of her dress.

He watches as her pert breasts bounce with his thrusts. She closes her eyes and looks up at the ceiling, trying to imagine this situation with someone else. Anyone else. Because it felt too good. The wolf-man who had just murdered her Grandmother should not be making her feel this incredible.

But as temptation overrules, she flutters her eyes open and gazes at the man before her. Her stomach flips when she sees her reflection mirrored in the black eyes that are staring right back at her. Both their jaws hang open slightly and Peter’s bloody breath fills her nostrils. The smell had first made her want to heave and get as far away as possible but now, she has this overbearing urge to brush her tongue across his and share the intoxicating, metallic flavour of human life.

Suddenly, she fists his hair, yanking at it so hard it makes him grind his teeth with pain. He can feel the familiar rippling of her pussy, indicating that she is close to her climax. But he wasn’t going to give it to her. Not yet anyway.

With a malice grin, he parts her thighs and pulls out of her. She whines in protest and tries to anchor him to her by locking her chin over his neck and gripping him under his arms. But he twists his body, making her drop to her feet and release her grip.

She stares up at him expectantly and gulps in the silence. Her heart was pounding. He could hear it. They were both heaving with exertion but Peter tried to stay composed. He gritted his teeth and stared down at her.

He flicked his head back. “Get on the bed.”

Red responded immediately, scrambling over to the blood stained bed where her once, very much alive Grandmother, had been sleeping soundly. Now her bloody bones lie in a pile by the wood outside the back door.

Red sits, resting her weight on her palms, her knees tucked up to her chest. She looked even smaller now. Her black hair fell down to her hips in waves and she tucked a strand of it back behind her ear when it fell over her face. Peter grinned when he noticed the tremor in her body. He thought it was caused by fear. But it was due to her rush of adrenaline.

She watches in awe as he starts to strip. His britches are already halfway down his thighs, displaying his erection that is pointing up to the ceiling, but she is focusing more on what was hiding underneath his stained shirt. She had felt how hard his chest was as it was pressed against hers. The anticipation was making her so wet, she had to clench her thighs together.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up. Her breath caught in her throat as more and more of him was revealed. He pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor with a horrible sloppy sound. His tanned chest was covered with hair. It swirled in patterns above his nipples then trailed down the centre crevice of his perfectly shaped abs. Silver scars marred his skin. Four claw marks started at his left shoulder and ended at his nipple and there was a bite mark above his right hip.

When he growled, she blinked hard, realising that she was staring.

“Like what you see?” His lips curved into a devious smirk after he dropped his pants and removed his boots. His lust had made his voice hoarse.

She nodded and her heart thudded as he leant down and clambered up the bed. Soon he was over her. Her head was on the pillow between his hands and he stared at her from above.

His eyes licked up her body. “Now let’s see what this pretty little dress is hiding underneath.”

She gasped and gripped the mattress as he tore the bodice of her dress apart. A lump swells in her throat at how she was letting herself be violated like this. But when he yanks the hem off her dress up over her waist, she doesn’t do anything to stop him. In fact, she lifts her ass so he can continue to pull it over her head. He throws it aside and it joins the rest of his clothes on the floor.

He shifts his body down until he is kneeling at the bottom of the bed.

He is smiling as he idly begins removing her boots, dropping them with a heavy thump on the wooden floor. At this, she squirms and attempts to cross her thighs to keep some of her modesty. But Peter grips her calves and pulls her legs apart. His fingers stroke the soft fabric of her knee high socks.

“I think we’ll leave these on,” he muses as he plays with the red ribbon of the bows. Her plump red lips part as she pants with anticipation, watching as he starts to lower himself, bringing his face down to her hot, wet pussy. His tongue flicks her sensitive nub. She moans an bucks her ass into the bed. She lifts her legs to wrap them around his back but he grabs her feet and pins them to the mattress, so instead, she pushes her fingers through his matted curls and presses his face closer to her. He growls in protest, pushing back a little as the power shifts but then he gives in with a smirk when he is reminded that he is still the one with the power. His aim was to turn the girl’s world upside down. And what better way to do it than to make her want the Beast she would so willingly destroy?

He starts to fuck her with his tongue. Hardening it and pushing it in and out. Her hips roll with his motions as she basks in the pleasure that clenches her stomach. The smell and taste of her desire for him almost undid him. He glances up and notices a trail of blood that has run from her open wound at her neck, down to her breast. He could feel the Beast inside him threatening to be released as he nibbled on her juicy pussy lips. The Beast told him to bite harder, to rip her flesh and feed but he shook away the thought and focused on her moans and thriving.

As he sucked and flicked her clit, he pushed two fingers into her sodden entrance. She gripped him firmly with a grateful moan, digging her nails into his scalp. She rocked against him frantically, desperate for release. But as she neared, he could feel it and drew back.

“Not again!” she hissed and tried to pull his head closer to her aching centre but he grabbed her forearms and yanked them down, hard enough to make her cry out.

Her heart sinks and her eyes widen as she looks down at the man knelt before her. His black eyes glowing yellow once more. He huffs a laugh, baring his lengthened canines. She starts to panic, becoming overwhelmed with the truth. The stickiness of the sheets underneath her. The blood down her chest and the gaping wound in her shoulder. And Peter. Peter the man that killed her Grandmother. The man that is not a man at all.

Tears pool in her eyes as she screams and tries to scramble off the bed. But Peter grips the tops of her arms and pins her down with a savage growl. She gasps, staring up at him wide-eyed. His body is over her like a cage. There is no escape. He snaps his teeth together with a malicious smile before slamming his lips against hers. She cries into his mouth, smothered by the taste of blood and her own arousal.  She beats her fists against his hard chest, trying to break the contact but that just makes him bear down on her with more force. He prises her lips open and pushes his tongue into her mouth. She presses her palms into his shoulders, attempting to break the contact, but the way his tongue brushes past hers makes her stop… The tension in her body uncoils and she gives in. She slants her face against his and kisses him deeper with a primal growl. He growls back and grabs the backs of her thighs, pushing them apart. Her body hums with anticipation. She slips her hand down between their bodies and grabs his throbbing cock. She presses his head against her clit, rubbing it up and down, making her stomach knot with arousal, before she pushes him into her slick entrance.

They both moan into each other’s mouths, grinding their lower bodies together. She pushes her fingers through his hair and breaks the kiss to gain her breath. Peter’s lips trail down her neck to her wounded shoulder and he licks up the fresh blood that has oozed out. She groans and arches her back, giving into the sordid pleasure that wracks through her body. She wraps her legs around his waist. He grips her legs firmly and leans out of her for a better angle. He raises her ass up and rests it against his knees and he slams into her harder. She moans and thrashes on the mattress, lifting her hands behind her head and gripping the headboard for stability. She so desperately needed to cum. This time he had to let her finish. The heat that consumed her lower half was excruciating. She gripped her inner muscles around his cock and rocks against him, hoping to satisfy him enough for him to give her what she wanted.

With his eyes still a feral yellow, he grabs the tops of her arms and spins them both round so that she is straddling his waist. In this position he feels even bigger. The throbbing knot in the bit of Red’s stomach swells at the feeling and she rides him harder and faster, grinding down on him so his torso rubs against her clit.

“Yes. Oh. Yes!” she cries, dropping her head back and getting lost in the moment. With a growl, Peter grabs her neck and forces her down. She gasps as his lips latch onto her hard nipple and he starts to lick and suck while he squeezes her other breast in his blood soaked hand. She rocks her hips, grinding against him as he plays with her breasts. She can feel her hair sticking to the wound on her shoulder and Peter’s mouth travels north every time blood trickles from it, down her white chest. Her eyes flicker open and something catches her eye poking out from under the bed. The hilt of her sword.

Her breathing starts to elevate. The knot inside her tightens. Her pussy muscles spasm and clench onto Peter’s cock as she nears to orgasm. She throws her head back with a strangled cry and fists his hair as she is finally given what she craved. Peter squeezes her ass and pumps in and out of her frantically, lengthening her climax. Her eyes roll back, her thighs tense and her upper body shudders at her release. But before she has time to climb back down from her waves of pleasure, Peter pushes her back and growls, “Get on the floor. On your knees.”

She almost tumbles off the bed on her weak legs and gets into position on the floor by the bed. She tries to ignore the puddle of now cold blood, which her pristine white socks are mopping up.

Peter shifts his body so he’s sat on the bed in front of her, he fists his erection which is glistening with her cum. “Open your mouth.”

She does and he presses the tip of his cock onto her tongue, still pumping his shaft. His cum shoots onto her lips and down her throat. She swallows gratefully and leans into his cock, letting it slip deeper into her mouth. Peter’s eyes widen. He had wanted her to suck him off, he so desperately wanted his cock between those blood red lips but he was afraid she’d take the chance and sink her teeth into him the same way he had with her shoulder. And that thought gave him a shiver up his spine. But now, as she licked up his shaft, cleaning him of her arousal and opening her mouth wider for him to spill his seed into her, that thought fell into the back of his mind.

She smiles up at him and closes her lips around his slowly shrinking member as spurts and spurts of his seed trickle down the back of her throat. She sucks him off until he is completely spent and smiles at the glazed look in his now black eyes when she pulls away.

Whilst he sat, dazed and completely unaware, Red grabs her sword. She jumps up, pushes him down onto his back and straddles him in one swift movement. He gasps in surprise, but before he can do anything else, she sinks the blade into his gut, so hard that it pierces straight through the mattress underneath him. Blood splatters up her naked chest and across her cheeks. He gasps again; a choked out, gurgling noises as crimson foam starts to froth from his mouth. She sneers and lowers herself so her face is inches from his.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to spin my world the right way up again,” she snickers and twists the hilt. His body convulses and he groans in response. “I will always be the predator and you will always be the prey.”

She leaves the sword in him, spits then lifts herself off him. She dresses again and settles on her Grandmother’s rocking chair. She lights an oil lamp and relaxes as the chair rocks back and forth soothingly.

Plucking a muffin from the floor, she watches out the window at the black night sky. Now unarmed, she decides to stay the night and leave in the morning.

Peter gurgles and groans on the bed, taking longer to bleed out than she was hoping. She turns to him and smiles as his black eyes meet hers. His nostrils flare in anger and his fists scrunch up into the soaked sheets. She figures that being pinned naked to a bed was not how he pictured meeting his demise.

And indeed, this was not how he had planned it to end. He was supposed to give her the ride of her life and then end her life. Her last moment was supposed to be him filling her mouth with his cum before he filled his stomach with her. And now…and now…he was just another wolf-man who didn’t live to the tale of his encounter with Red Riding Hood.

© Copyright 2018 PurpleSky. All rights reserved.

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