Wolves of Budapest
By Cairo Dove
Belka could not believe her luck. The circus was finally going to be nearby. It has been a difficult transition for her living so far away from cities. She had grown up in some of the world's biggest metropolitan areas, and now she was relegated to a simple and quiet life in a Romanian forest with her father, a contemplative and moody painter. He was like an agitated monk, and at first the novelty of living so independently was exciting. Testing oneself at so tender an age (she was 9 when they moved from Milan to their treed home near Budapest), was the best way to find out what one was made of, and Belka was as clever as any fox and as tenacious as any wolf that she might have come across. Initially her father would take her for long walks from their little cabin and delight her with endless yarns of anthropomorphized bears and children raised by wild animals. Belka was beside herself with excitement when she had heard about a case of a wild boy that was found eating from the head of a dead dog and not able to speak at all. He was taken from near where Belka lived and brought to hospitals and laboratories and universities to see if they could help him. Belka ached for a companion as lonely as she, and dreamed of rescuing the wolfboy and learning his secret language and living with the beautiful wolves - even if it meant eating the brains of dead dogs.
As the years limped on, Belka's father had become increasingly reclusive. He would lock himself up all day and night in his studio with cheap drink and oil pastels, leaving poor Belka on her own. She was a terrific reader, and had managed to find a service that delivered books to people outside of what she considered civilization. It was a literacy program that Belka was able to take advantage of. Her mother (who left both father and daughter to join a convent in Florence) had been Romanian, so learning the language was as simple as learning the terrain, and Belka easily mastered both. She reveled in the classics of many countries, and when she tired of literature, she turned her attention to animal studies. Her fascination with wolves grew stronger every passing year. She studied the animals not only by reading about them but also by tracking them, befriending them, and even drawing them as they slept or played or fed. It had been her good fortune to happen upon young wolves that accepted her as one of their own, while she was so young, and Belka learned from them as they learned from her. She always listened to their cries with the prayerfulness of a pilgrim and longed for the day she heard her wolfboy return to the wild. She feared for him always.
As magical as those years had been, Belka had begun to grow restless as her body had grown up. She was a young woman of 19 when she walked into the nearby village and saw a poster for the circus. The image was brightly coloured in yellows and reds as it boasted a wild man with long hair, claws, and fangs - "The Wolfman of Budapest!" It was like an arrow of serendipity that pierced her entire being! It could be him - her wolfboy. Perhaps science abandoned him, and he had now found his true calling in the Romanian Circus - it was too much to ask for! It had to be a sign.
Belka hurried home that day and quickly packed what she could into her cotton bag. In deference to her animal friends, she had made the bag herself not from hyde but from an old softly-flowered dress she had loved dearly but had outgrown as she had waged puberty. Much to her delight, her breasts had swelled and her hips had bowed, and she had gracefully formed into a woman even more beautiful than her mother. Belka's hair was the colour of a raven's wing, and her lips were full and deeply pinkened by the potency of her youth. Her body was strong and agile, and she moved with the swift grace of the wolves she had adored and had grown with. She was fascinated by her body, and had even taken to drawing self-portraits, perhaps in an effort to understand who she was and to remind herself that she was, in fact, a virgin human girl, not a feral wolfchild.
She rolled up her drawings, and into her bag she threw some necessary clothing, a photo of her mother, her journal, her tiny collection of wolves' baby teeth, an ancient bottle of Chanel No. 5 that she had found one day in the road with other discarded items from an unfortunate traveler. Leaving a note for her father, Belka was off for her adventure in the circus.
Arriving at the camp where the performers were staying was more daunting than Belka had expected. She was anxious and angry with herself for being so nervous. But she was not accustomed to all of these people, and the stimulation was fantastic. She forced herself to find that inner calm she had learned from the wolves, and walking quietly and proudly, Belka made her way to the trailer which beheld the Circus' manager. There were old picnic benches scattered around the many trailers beneath the tent, and many of the circus people were eating as they played cards, argued, swallowed fire, walked on stilts, or just watched their intruder carefully. Belka allowed them to watch her, and regarded them with the same concern and respect as she would a wolf pack. Approaching the manager's door, she knocked softly and was met with no reply. She rapped her knuckles even harder against the door a second time and feigned importance with each knock. Finally there was a rumble inside, and the tin door popped open brightly to reveal a very short and corpulent man with one gold tooth in a row of large, yellowed fellows.
He leered, "Why this noise, Young Lady?"
Belka blushed as the man openly eyed her body. Braless as any forest-girl might be, Belka was wrapped in a soft lilac cotton blouse and matching long skirt. It was another of her sewing excursions. The man's attention provoked Belka's nipples into petulance beneath the delicate fabric. She was confused, as this man was repulsive, but she already sensed the power she had over him and decided to exploit it. "I have come for a job. I know wolves, and I want to work with you." She smiled as if she were an unassuming omega.
Cosmo, as he had finally introduced himself, invited Belka in for tea. She warily agreed, even though she could see by the curious and cruel expressions on the faces of those nearby, she might be in for a fight. Belka tested her strength and instinct at every opportunity, and she had already sized this man up as an unworthy opponent. He smelled of cheap smoke and liquor, and it was an effort for him to walk to his stove without wheezing. He could be easily overcome by someone as swift and nimble as Belka.
They talked for nearly an hour, and Belka was careful to cross and uncross her legs slowly. She leaned over the table, allowing her generous breasts to rest on the smooth surface. The outline of her nipples daring poor Cosmo into snacking. Belka discreetly preened until in a sweat, Cosmo agreed to allow Belka to assist the Wolfman of Budapest, who used wolves in his act. Belka was thrilled and wanted to jump up and down in victory, but instead smiled gently, licking her lips coquettishly. She was enjoying this newly discovered talent, and she could feel her sex tighten and become moist as her repugnant employer unconsciously mimicked Belka's gesture.
Cosmo told Belka where to find the Wolfman's trailer and took a large, iron key from his pocket and handed it with shaking hands to Belka. As a reward for his good sportsmanship, Belka stood and kissed Cosmo on his cheek. As she bent down to do this, she was aware of her blouse revealing the cool, white curves of her breasts. Belka even indulged Cosmo's voyeurism by feigning girlish embarrassment and covering up quickly with a giggle. Cosmo wiped his mouth, and pale and clammy, just waved Belka away. As inexperienced as she may have been, she could see the danger he posed to himself if he had dared to stand and accompany her to the door.
What silly and easy prey men are. She thought as she smoothly exited in search of the Wolfman's trailer.
As she stepped down from Cosmo's metal office, he shouted out to her, "Be careful of this man, yes? He is as wild as a wolf, and twice as strong. His hunger is insatiable, so bring him something from the pit!"
Belka's belly was tickled with fireflies. She watched the reactions of the other performers as she reached for a dish and sweetly requested some food. With a wink and a smile, she was rewarded with a charred lamb's shank, and off she went in search of her wolfboy.
His trailer was set away from the others, and Belka's reserve began to dissipate as the silence became overwhelming. And as if in answer to her unspoken prayers, she could hear the gentle call of one of the wolves. He must have smelled the cooked meat. Belka walked around the trailer, following the cries of first one, then another wolf. They were black and baleful, and it broke Belka's heart to see such fine nobility penned up in crass, iron cages. She walked over to them submissively and the female came forward cautiously. She sniffed the air and sang out softly then more loudly as her pups trilled and chuffed at her feet. The male stood back and watched. He stayed near his family, but was careful to keep his distance from this odd-smelling stranger. Belka howled with the shewolf, and the cries grew louder and more heart-rending in the dark.
Finally, there was a stirring in the shadows. A man covered in night, but whose outline was easily made out against the metallic background of the cage. He stood fully erect and bayed terrifically. It was a fearsome cry as profound as any wolf Belka had ever known, and it answered the loneliness of her own cry. Startled but incited, Belka howled again - this time she filled the sky with her voice, and she was met with an even bigger cry from the man. Something desperate washed through Belka, and she threw the meat into the cage. She climbed up and shook the bars demanding entrance. The wolves descended upon the lamb, and the baying man leapt from the dark to the cage's periphery. It was him! Belka could see, it was the Wolfman! She clung to the bars, as he shook fiercely. Belka reached in and grabbed the Wolfman's bearded face. She touched and moaned and whined in anxiety. She wanted in; she wanted him, and he reached and swiped at her with the same wild need. Belka jumped free of the cage and dizzily searched for the door. The Wolfman let out a wild and fearful yelp, as he waited gripped by anxiety. He watched rapaciously, as Belka quickly slid the iron key into it's lock, and smoothly twisting it, she sprung the door open with a clatter. The Wolfman descended upon Belka, as she snatched handfuls of his flesh and bit into him with her own hungry kisses. She was overwhelmed with desire and raging with emotion as this strong and wild thing pushed her into his dark corner. The cage smelled like wolves - heavy in musk and night. She could feel her clothes being taken from her in mighty strokes, as the Wolfman handled Belka roughly. She grabbed him, bit him, kissed and scratched him. She had never known a man, and her curiosity was being torn from her as were her panties and skirt. Nude and shaking, Belka felt herself being overpowered by the Wolfman. She moaned and nearly swooned as he mounted her from behind. He rubbed and bayed and scratched and bit, then pushing her gently ahead he set about licking her between her pale, white thighs. Belka bit her lip in frantic need. Her spine was like quicksilver as it bowed and flexed bearing the waves of pleasure, and the ecstasy she felt from this feral lover was like nothing she could ever bring herself. It was at once sacred and profane, and Belka bowed deeply in libidinous reverence as her lover lapped up the sweetness of her swollen pussy.
In one swift, clean movement, the Wolfman replaced tongue with cock, and Belka cried out in the shock of pain. It had been so quick and brutal that it had stopped her heart for a moment. She was so taken by the tendrils of pain wrapping around her and taunting her with pleasure, that she stayed still as if stunned. She could feel this man inside her, pushing up against womb and heart as he rocked and howled and clutched and snarled. Then suddenly, Belka's mind came rushing back to her, and she could hear herself screaming. But the screams were ecstatic expressions of need, desire, and connection. The shock was the welling of her emotions as the Wolfman fucked her like his shewolf. In and out, relentless in his task, tenacious in his claim, Belka felt the flooding of her soul as that secret sweetness started to rush into her cunt. It was deeper and more powerful than her fingers had ever done, and its ferocity began to terrify her. She was inarticulate in the grip of it as it seized and shook her. She shattered like Florentine stained glass as she came hard, and she could feel her Wolfman chasing his own pleasure in her wake. He howled bigger than the moon and louder than the earth as Belka's own scream was torn from her throat and cast deep into the Universe. She gripped the straw on the floor, and strained and wept. The intensity tore her in two as her wolf-lover collapsed on top of her. Suddenly, mortality returned, and her knees were sore, her throat raw, and her heart banged wildly inside her chest. She had the breath knocked from her when the Wolfman wrapped his strong arms possessively around her, and Belka gripped his forearms and forced them into an even tighter circle as she clutched him covetously to her.
She felt his spent cock slip from her sore quim, and she turned awkwardly in his arms. She wanted very much to see him. Shaggy and glistening in sweat and moonlight, he was her lover. The one she had dreamed about, ached for, and wanted always. She took his hand and covered her heart with it as he mutely nuzzled her and sighed. One of the wolves howled as night fell in closer, and the Wolfman licked Belka's ear in lupine adoration.
