Awakening The Beast Pt 02 Wolves And Sheepdogs

Author's note: This story starts where Pt. 1 left off. While not required, Pt. 1 is recommended first, for character introduction and to set the tone for the series. Do enjoy. More to come, hopefully later this week. Keep the feedback coming. And to answer a common readers' question, yes, I do only write about things realistic to me personally. All copyrights reserved to the original author. – TIB

*****

It had been quite the unexpected day.

Kelly's return hike from the forest was a blur. What took hours going in, passed in a flash coming back out. Kelly's mind was a whirl with thoughts and endorphins, feeling quite wonderful, confident and satisfied. Although her gait was somewhat unsteady from such aggressive sex, the weight on her shoulders seemed vastly lifted as she strode back along the trail. She could still feel him inside of her, his hands on her. Her lips still tingled from his kiss–she delicately traced her fingertips along her puffed lips, remembering every sensation, the feel of his thick cock in her mouth, the way he had dominated her entire being.

Coming around the final bend, Kelly caught the first glimpse of her awaiting car. There was a piece of black on her windshield. What could it be? As she got closer, her curiosity grew into confusion, this little black clump at the bottom corner of her windshield. And then then she realized. Her panties. He had left her own panties tucked under the windshield wiper. Kelly grinned and let out a short chuckle, shaking her head. That seemed just like him, the man she didn't even know.

Kelly plucked them from underneath her wiper, holding the cloth in her hands, again replaying the day's tryst in her head as if she were hitting rewind over and over on a video. She looked over at the sun, red and low in the sky, and bid farewell to the best day she had had in a long, long time.

The weeks passed, real life returning in full force. Job, family, bills, commitments, it never went away, an ever-present smoke fog, continuously dishing out burdening challenges and frustrations, morning to night. Ugh. From time to time, Kelly would find herself lying in bed, driving on the highway, or her mind wandering at work, thinking about that hike, the mystery man.

"Kelly."

Kelly snapped out of her daze, turning to acknowledge her coworker, Denise.

"What? Sorry... I was just..."

"Yeah. You had that look again, off in some daydream." Denise rolled her eyes. "What is it, some other guy?" Kelly didn't reply, maintaining a small innocent smile. "Listen, Kel. There's a June festival coming up next weekend. Why don't you let that pretty red hair down and come along, just you and me?"

Kelly smiled, thinking for a minute. She still needed an escape from everything going on in life. "Sure. I could probably use that. Why not?" And so they made plans.

The festival came around, and Denise and Kelly went out for a good time on the town, dressed in pretty skirts and colorful summer tops. The festival filled the city park, overflowing with people and families out for some fun. As the day stretched into the evening, Kelly and Denise were approached by three swarthy young men while waiting to play a booth game on the arcade. The guys clearly had had a few drinks, leering and coming on to the two ladies. Not interested, Kelly and Denise at first politely declined their attempts at conversation and feeble passes, then more forcefully and directly told the guys no, that they just wanted to be left alone, claiming a desire for just a girls' night out. While this may not have been entirely true, the ladies just weren't interested in these fellas, having a complete lack of chemistry. When the guys wouldn't stop, Kelly took Denise's hand, and walked away.

The festival concluded with a traditional Irish musical performance, and the girls danced their own jig in the crowd, hopping and laughing, skirts twirling. Everyone had the best of times, their troubles temporarily out of mind. Afterwards, everybody seemed to leave all at once, headed back to their cars. Kelly loved that Celtic music, so fun, now stuck in her head as she and Denise flowed with the crowd. The crowds got thicker as they reached an intersection, and Kelly lost sight of her friend. Kelly pushed her way through the crowd as politely as she could, then made her way to the edge of the sidewalk, hoping she could find something to stand on and scan the crowd for Denise.

Not finding anything, Kelly did the best she could to crane her neck and look through the thick crowd for her friend. Crap. Nothing. And then she spotted them, the three young men from the festival. They were looking her way, walking towards her through the crowd. Kelly felt nervous, looking around, not seeing an easy way out. In a semi-panicked flash, she turned and walked away down a side street, seeking an escape. A minute later, she turned and looked back over her shoulder. They were still there, looking straight at her now with stone-faced expressions, intently striding right towards her. There was no mistaking it now, the men had something nefarious on their minds. Kelly's flight reflex kicked in, and she turned down another side street and ran, watching behind her.

She instantly realized her mistake. This was no side street. She had turned into a back alley, red brick walls all around. Kelly anxiously whirled around, looking for an escape route, but there was none. Dead end. Kelly turned to run back the way she came, only to see the three young men round the corner at a trot, slowing to a saunter, moving deliberately towards her, blocking her exit. NO! Holy shit. Kelly's heart pounded in her chest.

"STOP!" She yelled. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" The men only smirked and kept coming, not breaking stride, moving like predators corralling their prey. The din of the concluding festival and crowd nearby loudly overwhelmed the night air. Could anyone even hear her? Kelly paused, not wanting to go to extremes unless she had to. "HELP!"

The man in the middle spoke as they approached her, repeatedly stretching and balling up his fingers, as if preparing for something. "Looks like you need some company, bitch. You're all alone here. The crowd's back that way." He sneered at her, and his friends spread out to his sides, clearly intending harm. He was tall and dark, with black hair and a matching mustache. The main to his right was shorter, with a black leather jacket and blue ball cap. The other a little heavier, with noisy, labored breathing, the epitome of a creep.

Kelly cringed, backing away. "NO!"

Mustache sneered again, reaching out a hairy arm to her. Kelly's heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest, blood pounding in her ears, terrified. She froze in fear, trying to choose an action, looking wide eyed at the mustachioed man in front of her.

... and that's when his face exploded.

Later, Kelly wouldn't be able to recount exactly what happened. Everything was such a blur, happening so fast, in the blink of an eye, and she was in no sort of a collected state. It seemed over before it even begun.

A large fourth man suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bursting forward past Kelly, driving the heel of his right palm up into the nose of the mustachioed man. Mustache's face exploded in a red mist of blood, his head snapping back, staggering rearwards. The attacker wasted no time, twisting his torso and hips to deliver a left punch to the solar plexus. Moustache coughed blood in a spurt and went toppling over backwards, landing in a heap on the pavement.

The attacker then pivoted to his right, closing the distance in an instant to Heavier Guy, balling his fist and punching the schmuck straight in the fucking throat. Heavier Guy's eyes flew open wide, emitting a loud wet gurgling sound, stumbling backwards and clutching his throat, staring at his attacker stunned, unable to speak or react. Heavier Guy wobbled, just as the attacker hit him in the jaw with a bare right hook, using no wasted energy or unnecessary motions. The "thwack" resounded in the alley and spun Heavier Guy around in a whirl, sinking to his knees and then crumpling to the side.

"FUCK YOU!" Shit. Ball Cap apparently had enough reaction time to pull a knife, lunging at the attacker from behind as he took care of Heavier Guy. Kelly screamed, and the attacker wheeled around just in time. Ball Cap's knife glanced off the back corner of his shoulder and the attacker gave a yelp of pain as it drew blood.

The attacker. Now turned around to face Ball Cap, she could see his face in the streetlight. That face. Oh my God.

It was the stranger from the forest.

Ball Cap swung his knife-wielding arm to deliver another knife blow, but the stranger was faster, stepping inside his attack range. The stranger brought his hand down hard on Ball Cap's forearm, and the knife went flying, clattering on the pavement. The stranger grabbed Ball Cap's throat with his left hand and kept his momentum going, driving right through Ball Cap, body slamming him hard against the alley brick wall. Ball Cap's head snapped back, smacking into the brick with a loud, wet, thudding crack.

"YOU PICKED THE WRONG LADY, MOTHER FUCKER!!" The stranger pulled Ball Cap's throat, pulling him away from the brick wall and then slammed him back against it, lifting his body. Ball Cap's neck stretched, his chin lifted, only his tip toes still touching the ground, as the stranger pinned him against the wall by his throat. Ball Cap wheezed, struggling for breath. The stranger squeezed harder, and then in a flash the stranger slid his right foot back to assume an aggressive fighting stance, flicked his shirt tail back with his free right hand, and reached for his right hip.

"NO!!" Kelly screamed, launching herself at the two men. Whatever the fuck was going on, she didn't want anybody to die and knew she had to step in. She put her left hand solidly on the stranger's right arm, his hand frozen on his hip, and pushed her body partly in between the two men, facing the stranger. Here she was, pressed against him again, but now in a completely different situation from their last encounter. Other than freezing in place, he gave no indication he even was aware of her presence, staring unflinchingly into Ball Cap's glassy eyes. The stranger's pupils were tiny pinpricks, eyes narrowed, his face overflowing with primal rage. He clenched his jaw shut tight, nostrils flaring, top lip lifted ever so slightly to bare his teeth, seething.

"No," Kelly said again, now quieter, talking to him, not at him. She squeezed his right arm and laid her right hand on his chest, trying to reach the man inside, asking him to take back over. She could feel him trembling, the rage coursing through every vein and muscle. She stayed where she was, quietly in contact, pausing, being patient and then giving his chest a little tap with the fingers of her right hand.

"No," she said one last time, now soft and soothing. Looking at his face, she slowly watched the beast subside, the man return, his muscles gradually unclench. She slowly stepped out from between the two men. Turning to look at Ball Cap, she saw a drop of blood trickle from his ear, his eyes glassy. Kelly watched the stranger's grip on his throat relax, and Ball Cap's body slid on the wall for his feet to be back on the ground. Kelly cautiously stepped away, and slowly, the stranger released his grip, and stepped back. Ball Cap crumpled to the ground in a lump of unconscious flesh.

The stranger grabbed Kelly's hand, forcefully pulling her behind him, and stepped to the side, putting their backs to the wall, arm outstretched to shield her behind him. Kelly watched as he surveyed the scene, looking at the three motionless bodies lying on the pavement. He scanned left and right, then looked up, looking all around. Seemingly sufficiently satisfied, he walked away without a word, leading Kelly by the hand behind him. They left the alley, walking briskly without breaking into a run. He led the route, making several turns, then into the edge of the park hosting the festival. He pulled her so they could both sit on a park bench behind a now vacant festival tent. What was it with them and park benches?

For the first time that night, he stopped and looked at her, holding her by the arms. Those beautiful hazel eyes. The man had returned, back in control. He spoke gently, but deliberately.

"Are you injured?"

Kelly was shocked. She wasn't sure. She didn't think she had even been touched, but was in kind of a fog, still feeling the adrenaline. She slowly looked down at herself, and then took stock of her anatomy, telling her brain to notice each body area and scan for pain. Nothing.

"No. I... don't think so."

He drew in a breath and spoke a little more calmly. "Are you okay?"

Kelly again was shocked, not knowing how to answer. Her brain tried to process what had just happened. She could feel the adrenaline leaving her system, and started to get the shakes. Kelly felt like throwing up. She looked at his arm holding hers, and noticed he was shaking too. What the hell even happened? What the... no, it was too much.

"No." Kelly's voice shook, matching her body. She hit her emotional wall, past her breaking point. Her eyes welled up, and Kelly broke down in tears, losing it.

The stranger took her into his arms, enveloping her body with his huge, strong frame. Not saying a word, he held her tightly, letting her feel, running through the course of emotions. They trembled together in the conflict aftermath. For the moment, she didn't need anything more, just to be held, filling a void with his warm, burly contact. She was scared, overwhelmed. To be honest, she even felt intimidated by the violence she had just witnessed him perpetrate while defending her.

She wasn't sure about him. But now... there were his arms. Deservedly or not, Kelly now felt an element of safety. Felt protected. For several minutes, she nuzzled into him, pushing her tear-streaked face into his strong chest, and rested a hand on his chest, fingers lightly tousling the chest hair peeking out from the top of his unbuttoned polo shirt. He held her patiently as she broke down, reached rock bottom with her heart bare and vulnerable, then collected herself emotionally and put the pieces back together. Being in his arms felt like... home.

Kelly's wits started to return. She sniffled. "Should we get to the safety of the crowds?" she mused, thinking out loud.

"I don't do crowds."

Okay. She pondered further. "Police, then?"

"No police. We're safe."

She fell silent again. No matter. He was right. This was all she needed. The police would have been too complicated anyway. Undoubtedly, they would have so many questions, not the least of which being whether three young men lying in an alley truly justified such actions. Kelly took a deep breath and sighed. She wondered something else.

"... how ... why?"

He paused, his chest rising and falling as they held each other. An unknown time passed. She wondered whether he even heard her. Then he spoke, guarded, as if taking a chance in responding.

"Wolves and sheepdogs." Kelly furrowed her brow in confusion, but listened quietly, still burrowed into the base of his neck.

He continued. "You need to learn this allegory. Even if you have no interest in understanding someone like me, this principle may save your life. Research 'Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs'. Those men tonight. They were wolves, preying on others to satisfy their own desires, with no regard to whether they are hurting people. Often, they even derive pleasure in making others suffer. So many in society refuse to acknowledge that wolves exist. They believe that since the world should be loving, kind, and benevolent, it therefore is that way. These people live in denial. But the brutal truth is, there will always be wolves, seeking to take advantage of others."

He went on. "Those like me..." He paused. "I don't fit in society. I recognize wolves for what they are, and long for the opportunity to stop wolves from doing evil. I've had to do things..." His voice trailed off for several seconds, as if he were lost in thought. "I'm damned. Pretty fucked up. But I will gladly serve my function, always watching, trying to save my aggression for when it's needed. I've accepted it. I chose this. I don't expect anyone to understand."

Kelly sat frozen, stunned. This was more than he had ever said, hinting at a trove of undiscovered hidden inner secrets. She could hear his heartbeat in his chest, steady and sure. It was calming. Soothing. This man, he centered her. They sat quiet and still, only the smallest of motions, her fingertips on his chest hair, his hand ever so slightly rubbing her arm. Then a little more. Then more, passion building. She felt so safe with him, and yet... he excited her. It wasn't gratitude or admiration. She desired her rescuer. She nuzzled into him, loving the feel of his body against her, nestling her nose into the base of his neck and strong shoulders. He caressed her arms.

With a rising desire, she planted small kisses on his neck, running her palm down his chest. Kelly's breathing deepened, and a small whimper escaped her lips. He turned into her, sitting together on the park bench, his left arm wrapped around her back, dropping to grab her waist and pull her even closer. With a firm yet caring motion, he took her chin between his right index finger and thumb, turning her face and lifting it to his own. He kissed her softly, as they shared the aftermath of this common experience, making an unspoken spiritual connection–the connection borne from a shared trauma, something unknown to so many.

He dropped his right hand to her shoulder, then her left breast, caressing and gently squeezing. God, she loved the way he touched her. Their kiss broke, as they paused for breath.

"I've been thinking about you," she breathed, feeling compelled to admit it, "ever since that day."

He did not reply, but kissed her again, deeper. He lifted the bottom of her shirt, gently feeling her bare stomach and torso underneath, then cupping her breast. Kelly drew in a breath as he touched her soft, fair, bare skin. She signaled compliance, raising her arms, and he readily took the lead, lifting her shirt up and off her head. Suddenly he winced slightly, drawing in a small sharp breath. His shoulder. The knife wound. She stood and moved in front of him, standing in her red laced bra and bent forward over him to look at his shoulder. Kelly's full breasts hung just in front of the stranger's face, bulging in her bra.

Kelly delicately touched his shirt, pulling it away from his shoulder. There was a blood stain just smaller than a dollar bill, dark red to black in the evening park light. Not saying anything, she reached down and unbuttoned his shirt. He looked up at her and she looked into his hazel eyes, silently telling him, "I'm doing this for you. I'm yours. Let me care for you." She could feel his chest hair as she descended, then with the last button, delicately opened his shirt with a woman's touch, and gently pulled it off his arms, leaning over and reaching behind him.

The wound was sizeable, perhaps three inches long, but didn't appear too deep. It was a bit ugly, his skin ragged, but mostly superficial. It looked like it had already stopped bleeding, although the area was surrounded by dark sticky blood. She looked back at him with a look of care, not alarming concern, letting him know it didn't appear serious.

Kelly suddenly wasn't quite sure what to do next. He placed his hands on her hips, and pulled her still standing to him, kissing her bare stomach as he sat on the bench, legs flanking hers. Kelly felt butterflies of excitement, and tenderly cradled his head in her hands, pulling him into her bosom. He kissed her abdomen, her solar plexus. Remembering the attack, Kelly was struck how he was now exploring the same parts of her anatomy in desire and ownership, that he had attacked so viciously on others. His hands came up her back, feeling her bare skin, then unhooked her bra. With increasing fervor as passion took over, he pulled her bra off her shoulders, baring her large luscious breasts, and hungrily plunged his face into her cleavage, kissing and caressing with his mouth.