Peta and the Wolf


Peta was in the forest, gathering firewood, when she came across a mysterious woman in a clearing. The woman was wearing a cloak and a sword, and looking at Peta with a fierce smile.

“Hello,” Peta said, surprised. “Who are you,”

“The Wolf,” the woman said. “I hunt girls like you.”

“Oh,” Peta said, because she’d heard stories of wise warrior women who lived in the forest, and how they waited for village girls, and then did things to them, and how wonderfully exciting those things could be. “Is the Wolf your name?” she said, trying to be polite.

“Apparently it is,” said the Wolf.

“But you don’t know?”

“It’s what I’m called now, not what I call myself.”

“Oh,” Peta said. “I see. Should I call you that?”

“If you wish.”

“And what are you doing here?”

The Wolf just looked at her, and smiled.

“Oh,” Peta said, beginning to understand. She thought of the stories she had heard. She thought of those stories, and also of touching and stroking and all the things she did by herself, at night, but of doing those things with someone else.

She felt a little breathless. She felt a tightness in her throat. “Are you waiting for me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” the Wolf said, and kissed her.

Peta kissed back. She kissed, flattered the Wolf was here for her, excited because she knew what to expect. She felt the Wolf’s hands touching her, sliding under her skirts, caressing her, and dropped the firewood she had gathered. She reached out, with her empty hands, and touched the Wolf back. She did her best to copy what the Wolf was doing, but knew she wasn’t doing it as well. The Wolf stroked her gently, rhythmically, over and over, and soon Peta felt a sudden wonderful pleasure, and couldn’t think at all.

When it had finished, she tried to do the same back to the Wolf, and rubbed as best she could, but she failed to give the Wolf that same pleasure. The Wolf told her not to worry, that it was a tricky thing to do to someone else, and that what Peta had done was nice. Then the Wolf kissed Peta, and said she ought to go home now, because she, the Wolf, had a war to fight.

Peta picked up her firewood and went back to the village, a little disappointed by her failure. She wondered if she should tell her friends what had happened, and decided she would. There was no shame in an encounter with one of the warrior women of the forest, who fought darkness and evil and kept everyone in the villages safe.

Peta told her friends what had happened, and that she felt bad she hadn’t given the Wolf the pleasure that the Wolf gave her. “I didn’t manage today,” she said, as she told the story. “But if I see the Wolf another time, then that time, I promise, the Wolf will come.”

Peta saw the Wolf again. She went back to the same part of the forest the next day, quite deliberately, and the Wolf was waiting. They pleasured one another again. Peta went day after day, each afternoon for a week, and each time the Wolf pleasured Peta with her hand, and each time, Peta touched, and stroked, and caressed as best she could, but never managed to give the Wolf the same pleasure back.

Peta found it frustrating. “The Wolf is going to come,” she said to her friends in the village, over and over. “I mean it. I promise. The Wolf will come.”

After a week, Peta finally succeeded. As the Wolf had said, it was as much practice and determination as anything else. Peta stroked, and the Wolf sighed and gasped and pressed herself against Peta’s hand, and finally came.

Peta was delighted. “The Wolf is coming,” she shouted, excited, telling the forest, the trees and the birds, and the Wolf smiled as Peta did, apparently finding Peta’s enthusiasm endearing.

“Thank you,” the Wolf whispered, “I am blessed,” and Peta smiled, happy.

Then the Wolf ate Peta.

The Wolf ate Peta, kissing and licking and sucking with her mouth, and it was so wonderful, such intense pleasure, that Peta couldn’t stand to not experience it ever again. Peta decided to abandon her life in the village and live in the forest with the Wolf, for that was the way of it, what she had to do. The warrior women could touch with their hands, and the village women could touch back, but once two women had tasted one another, and then tasted once again, they could not live their separate lives any more.

Peta lived in the forest, and became a warrior woman too. She fought evil, and caressed village women, and took on a forest-name of her own, Yew.

Later in her life, between her battles with darkness, Peta-Yew met many village women into the forest, and made them happy. Some she only used her hand on, and then sent back to their villages, for they were not the kind of people who could become warriors. Some she saw something in, something more, in the same way the Wolf had seen something in her. Those, she met again, and sometimes pleasured with her mouth, and then they lived in the forest as well, and became warrior woman themselves.

Many years later, Peta-Yew discovered that when the Wolf had been young, she had known Peta-Yew’s own mother, and pleasured her, and sent her back to the village, and that was why the Wolf had come for Peta-Yew, especially. And later still, when Peta-Yew was very old, she did the same for the daughter of another woman, a woman who Peta-Yew had once loved, as well. And that woman came to live in the forest too.

It was their way. It was how they kept the darkness in the forest at bay.

All Peta-Yew’s life, the darkness was kept away.



Um, yes, actually I mean “the boy who cried wolf” because “peter and the wolf” is a piece of music, but I didn’t realize until after I wrote it and looked at wikipedia, and this is funnier this way, so never mind…