The Werewolf, the Woman, and the Cabin [Xajow and Nyra]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Xajow on 01-03-2012, 04:51:45</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Werewolf, the Woman, and the Cabin [Xajow and Nyra]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>01-03-2012, 04:51:45</strong>
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				The man who is swimming down the river is not quite a man. Perhaps better said, not just a man. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We are disembodied watchers, here in spirit only. We are here in the air, watching this man swim down the river. If we look far behind him, miles and miles away, there are men with dogs who are frustrated for reasons we do not yet understand. But let us turn our attention back to the man in the river. <br><br>He has both swum and been carried by the current a long way. And now he is growing tired, and is making his way to the bank of the river. As he climbs slowly from the water, we can get a better look at him.<br><br>The man is tall and broad-shouldered. He has a hard, muscular body that has come not from body building but from constant exercise of survival on the run. He is also naked. But we will say no more about that. He has light brown skin and long, straight black hair that reaches, at least when wet, to the lower edge of his shoulder blades. On his back is a large tattoo of black and red lines which form an abstract and stylized wolf. On his left arm is a tattoo of five, red, diagonal bars inside a black rectangle. On his chest, just over his heart is a tattooed ideogram of unknown origin. If we look closer we can see a narrow, old scar across the triceps of his right arm and a similar scar not quite so old on his left hip.<br><br>He sits down on the ground. He is panting with the exertion of the long swim. As&nbsp; he catches his breath we can take a closer look at the tattoo on his back. It is made up of straight and arcing tapered lines that depict a wolf sitting on his haunches and staring at the viewer. Among the black lines are red ones which give the wolf a red blaze on his snout and on his chest. Orange circles stare out as the unblinking eyes of the wolf.<br><br>As the man stands up and turns away from the river, we notice the man has pale brown eyes with flecks of amber. He is clean-shaven and has the small faint remnant of a scar on his right cheek. His face is otherwise unblemished. Aside from his height and the length of his hair, he looks like a young relative of Elvis Presley or perhaps James Dean. (Or perhaps James Franco for the younger set.)<br><br>But clearly he is not. For as we watch him walk away from the river, we see something startling. He drops to his hands and knees and his body begins to distort. He slowly becomes distinctly more furry as his face seems to grotesquely change. His limbs seem as if the bones are breaking. It is difficult to watch, and yet we cannot turn away. His hands and feet become paws. Soon he is covered in black fur. Bones that seemed broken set themselves in new formations. His face has become decidedly nonhuman. He growls as the transformation seems to complete itself. He has changed from a man into a large, black wolf.<br><br>He takes off into the woods that are not far from the bank of the river, and we must fly to keep up. Deeper and deeper into the woods he travels. He stops at a stream to drink, and then walks down the middle of the stream for a distance. Soon he is back to running through the woods. Even as the land takes on an incline, he hardly seems to slow down. But before long, he has stopped again, and so have we. For up ahead is a house.<br><br>We watch as the wolf moves around the house. No one comes out. He barks loud enough to frighten a number of the smaller animals in the area. Still no one emerges. Yet as the wolf sniffs the air, we can tell he smells something.<br><br>He begins a disturbing transformation back into a man, and we turn to slip inside. Being without solid form here allows us to pass through the wall and into the house. It is a two story house of wood and stone, but well decorated by someone with feminine tastes. We move through the rooms, hardly interested in what we see there because we are looking for the residents. But no one is home. Yet we come to the kitchen and find perhaps what the wolf could smell. A tray of warm cookies.<br><br>On the counter, next to the cookies, is a note. “Dear Red,” say the words of the handwritten note. “Thought you might like to start your house-sitting off with some yummy goodness. Remember to make yourself at home and relax. We’re going to be enjoying our trip across Europe, and we want you to enjoy some peace and quiet. Try not to work too hard. Loads of Love, Grandma.”<br><br>Someone else is coming to the cabin? Perhaps if we fly up through the ceiling and the roof, and above the trees we can see someone else on their way. Indeed, we can see not far away at all is an automobile traveling along an otherwise deserted road. But what of the wolf-man?<br><br>As we turn our attention to back to the wolf-man, we see the form of a man once more, and he is diligently searching. As we descend to where we can better watch the wolf-man, we see that he looks under a grass mat and under a plant, and runs his hand over the top of the door frame. He turns to stare at the stone walkway that leads from the front door to a driveway off the side. He squats down and runs his hands over the stones in the walkway. He smiles as he finds one that seems loose. He lifts up small stone, and there underneath he finds a key. He tries the key in the lock on the large, wooden front door, and is able to unlock it. He removes the key and takes it with him inside. He locks the door and starts to head for the source of the scent of the cookies.<br><br>But he is cautious and he looks in the rooms for people. He finds a closet and a small sitting room and a library and a den. He stops at one room. He sees inside the room a bed. He stares at the bed. It is covered in girlish pillows and a flowery comforter. But he walks to the bed and lies face down. He sighs and closes his eyes. Apparently he craves sleep more than food at the moment.<br><br>We watch for a moment, and his breathing slows a bit. But someone is coming. Someone else is even now perhaps only a half hour away in an automobile. But we do not fly up again. We wait. We wait and watch the door.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Werewolf, the Woman, and the Cabin [Xajow and Nyra]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nyra</strong> on <strong>10-03-2012, 16:52:52</strong>
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				" So Raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways, All my under dogs, We will never be, never be anything but loud, and nitty gritty dirty little freaks! Won't you come and come on and raise you glass!"&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Hands tapped against the steering wheel of her red Cadillac Ats, belting out the lyrics along with the blaring radio at the top of her lungs as she drove along the twisty deserted road towards her Grandmother acreage.&nbsp; She never understood why her Grandmother always felt the need to have a house sitter,&nbsp; their place was in the middle of no where, far from any sort of highway or town so there was little chance that anyone would ever actually stumble upon the place.&nbsp; <br><br>Still,&nbsp; these little vacations to her Grandmother place were looked forward to by Red, a nick name given to her for her love of the color as everything she owned was either red or had red in it (including her hair), because it gave her a break from the hustle and bustle of the city life.&nbsp; It was nice to be able to put her feet up for a while and just concentrate on her writing instead of having to worry about her job, due dates, going out and meeting the right people..making the right impressions etc.&nbsp; As of late she had been extremely stressed out, so being able to finally relax and just do nothing if she so desired was going to be a deliciously savored treat. <br><br>Turning off the main road, she headed down the dirt path that hardly looked like anything a car was supposed to travel on but that was the way her Grandmother liked things. They liked their piece and quiet and not to be disturbed..to be honest, Red liked it too and sincerely hoped that when they passed they would leave the acreage to her.&nbsp; In any case it was about 20 minutes of driving before she finally caught sight of her home away from home,&nbsp; a smile spreading across her face as she viewed the homey cabin.&nbsp; <br><br>It was nothing grand, just a small log cabin with quaint windows and a small parking garage off to the side.&nbsp; The barn further back seemed much more fabulous than the house but Grandma always said it was too big and lost the personal homey touch that the smaller cabin had.&nbsp; Red had to agree, and besides the barn was better for forts and adventuring when she was a kid, even having a climbing rope and swing where she would land in the musty stacks of hay with girlish squeals of delight.&nbsp; Parking the car, she shut off the engine and started unloading her things which consisted of a suit case of clothes, pens, pencils, erasers, some paints, an easel, some canvas's and of course the novel she was currently working on trying to finish.&nbsp; <br><br>She searched for the key first but it seemed Grandma had forgotten to leave it out, which perhaps should have tipped her off that something was wrong but Grandma was getting a little older so perhaps she had forgot?&nbsp; Moving to the door she tried it, and when it gave she assumed that Grandma had just forgotten to lock the door which would explain why no key was left out.&nbsp; Ah well.&nbsp; Shrugging her shoulders, she pushed the door open and turned back for her things, bringing them into the kitchen an armful at a time. <br><br>When it was all in, she sighed and looked around remembering fondly all the memories that had been made in this place and how magical it had always seemed. Even know she felt like there was something going on here that couldn't really be explained. Running her fingers through her crimson hair, her mismatched eyes of one green and one blue eye closed to momentarily soak in the restful atmosphere of the place.&nbsp; Pale skinned, dotted with constellations of freckles,&nbsp; Red stood at 5'7 and weighted about 140 lbs. Long legged, and fairly fit, she gave off the impression that she was very much an out doors kind of gal and had that sense of sturdyness about her that all country girls seem to carry around with them.&nbsp; <br><br>The scent of cookies drew her to the plate and the note which she read while happily munching down a cookie or two...or three (give her a break they are fresh baked cookies..I'd like to see you try to eat just one!)&nbsp; she set the note down and headed for the bathroom intent upon washing up and getting into her lounging clothes as soon as possible. Still unaware of the uninvited guest that was lurking within the cabin. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Werewolf, the Woman, and the Cabin [Xajow and Nyra]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>28-03-2012, 20:56:16</strong>
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				The scent of the stranger entering the house alerted his instincts. Silently his eyes opened, and just as silently he stood up from the bed. The scent seemed to be of a woman. It was hard to be sure. The scent of the cookies still filled the house. He stepped quietly from the bedroom and followed the scent of the stranger. The person was with the cookies. He found the kitchen and saw the back of a clothed, shapely woman. She was leaving the room and he backed up to hide himself lest she turn and see him.<br><br>He berated himself for not having checked the house completely before falling asleep. Had this woman been in the house the whole time? Why had she not come out when he had barked earlier? She seemed unaware of him. She did not seem like a person afraid or even wary. He could not catch the scent of anyone else in the house. So she was very likely alone.<br><br>He wanted to eat. The scent of the cookies was calling loudly to his hunger, but he had to ignore it until he had dealt with the woman. He pondered his options. He could sneak up on the woman. But she might be hiding a weapon He should wait and be more sure of her. He finally stepped from his hiding place and followed her scent once more. His steps were careful and silent on the floor.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Werewolf, the Woman, and the Cabin [Xajow and Nyra]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nyra</strong> on <strong>03-04-2012, 15:52:11</strong>
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				For the moment Red remained oblivious to the fact that a stranger was roaming around in her grandmothers house, and all honesty she never would have expected anyone to be out here anyways. It wasn't like her grandmother kept valuables for anyone to steal, least not things that traditional thieves would be desiring. <br><br>Moving towards the bathroom, Red started peeling off her clothes and leaving them in a crumpled trail down the hallway.&nbsp; Flicking on the radio to a country station, she smiled as she half closed the bathroom door; which had never closed properly since she was 5. <br><br>The water rushed from the shower head, pattering against the porcelain tub before the familiar sound of curtain being drawn and a delighted sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. Steam billowed in silky see through clouds from the bathroom into the hall way.&nbsp; The scent of flowed shampoo's and soaps beginning to fill the air.&nbsp; <br><br>Red was enjoying the hot water cascading over her body, washing away the grit of the city and the long travel to get here. She closed her eyes letting the water just run over her,&nbsp; humming to the soft twang of the country songs in the background. 
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