Eilidh in the Forest of Faoladh

A fantasy - nothing more, written for a lovely friend I know enjoys reading stories here. A tale of physical capture and emotional surrender to the power and magic of a mythical being of Scottish and Irish Celtic legend, the Faoladh, without recourse to anything that might happen in the real world. Some translations are noted at the end of the story. If tales of werewolves or lycanthropes aren't your thing, then please feel free to give this a miss and read one of the many other wonderful tales on this site instead. It's just a story after all... a faerie tale.

Eilidh ann am Choille Dhubh Faoladh

Once hunted down, Eilidh was truly alone and theirs...

There now came the dreaded moment when, naked on hands and knees as much in obedience as from the sheer exhaustion of prey run to its very end, understanding the three huge creatures had hunted her down and there could be no escape, she must allow them to have her however they wished. Her master had ruled it but, even in the absence of his decree, her predicament right now only made its truth more absolute: having found herself stalked as she walked blissfully naked through the warm summer day as she often did, she may have tried to evade them as long as she could but, now they had her, she was theirs to possess entirely.

The day had started much as any other, though notably warmer. Eilidh's master had left the hunting lodge before she had awoken, most likely to hunt boar with his friends as he said he might, so she had busied herself in the morning and afternoon with cleaning, tidying, washing and hanging laundry out to dry in the warm June air. Completing her domestic tasks by late afternoon, the early evening was hers to spend as she pleased before her later duties. After a simple meal of bread and leftover mutton, which she ate sitting in the sun on the terrace since nobody else was around, she decided to go for a walk through the woods.

If ever it was perfect to walk naked on the bare mother earth, Eilidh thought happily, it is on this day of Grianstad an t-Samhraidh. Leaving her maid's smock folded on her bed in her tiny attic room, she set off into nature. The forest floor was soft underfoot as she walked and she smiled to herself as she felt the almost still air caress her bare skin. Her elfin her 5ft 3in frame belied her agility and strength, and she could run through the trees and along the deer and boar paths as easily and sure-footedly as most people might walk, the softness of her skin ending at the accustomed resilience of the soles of her feet.

Eilidh had always been a wild child, renowned in her family and wider clan for her disregard of the norms that bound others, though she never thought of herself as such. Bhaltair's wild lass, they'd call her, rolling eyes in exasperation any time word spread of another of her exploits. She was accustomed to wandering and knew the woods around her master's lodge quite well already, throughout the couple of miles around the lodge at least, and comfortable her naked sojourns would never be observed or interrupted.

Her master, the young Laird Dubhghall of A' Choille Dhubh, whilst exacting in many respects, was of a much more even temperament than other housemaids' lairds and masters. Indeed, there was a certain gentle kindness to him, albeit expressed gruffly, and he was quite happy for her to roam his lands in the state of undress she often preferred in high summer. As she walked between the trees, the sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky casting deep shadows of their foliage between pools of bright green ground flora.

After a couple of hours of blissful strolling through the gentle sounds and sights of nature, birdsong and a steady insect hum filling the air in harmony with the gentle breeze through the treetops, Eilidh sensed she wasn't alone. Although not evident in any tangible way, a presence began to make itself felt upon her instincts. Stopping and looking around her, neither movement showed itself through the dappled foliage nor any sound told of footfall, yet she knew something or some one was nearby, concealed from all but the keenest primal sense as perfidious as Albion.

Snap, came a sudden faint sound of a single twig breaking as though trodden upon, and she knew her instinct was correct. Eyes widening, Eilidh drew herself down to a crouch to peer around between the lower stems of the trees. There, she thought, was definitely the silhouette of a man's legs walking then coming to a halt. Another snap resounded somewhere amongst the trees behind her and she reeled around, a hint of panic spreading into her breast, only to glimpse nothing. Glancing back to where she had seen the man's legs, she now saw they had gone. She was surely being stalked, and by more than just one.

She thought back to a conversation with her master, whose word she had come to respect in the fifty days since she had moved into his hunting lodge in keeping with her family's hereditary indenture to his lairdship now she had come of age at Là Bealltainn, during which he had told her of mythical creatures who sometimes visited this part of the forest as they beat the boundaries of their territory. They were creatures of this world and another, whose form changed as it suited them: sometimes human, but mostly as great wolf-like creatures whose strength, endurance, mysterious ways and appetites knew no bounds - not evil, legend told, but to be much feared nonetheless where there was no light to balance their darkness.

"If the Faoladh chance upon you," Dubhghall had cautioned Eilidh gravely, his seriousness etched upon his pale blue eyes, "you must submit to their will or die." As much a decree as a caution, he had ended his words there without any elaboration of what their will might be, save that their magic could beguile one's body and spirit, and she felt sure any such encounter would be best avoided. Although she had heard clan tales from her carlin aunt Faoiltiama of such beings of magic and power as a young girl, and had even heard them called other exotic names such as werewolves, lycanthropes or loup-garou spoken in fearful whispers, Eilidh wanted to know more and had tried to ask her master about them a few days later, but he wouldn't be drawn any further. "I should not have said anything about them," he dismissed the subject crossly, "now resume your duties, lass."

However, those stalking her now were mere men and she laughed in her mind as she thought how easily she would outrun them through these woods she knew so well. Even if they did catch sight of her, they would not dare lay a finger on one indentured to the service of her master, especially within his lands. She set off at a fast jog towards where she knew exactly where she could give them the slip. After a few minutes, she could hear the fall of their strides as they tried to keep up with her, falling further behind with each passing furlong. With a grin, she topped a slight brow and headed downward to a small valley where she knew she could double back without detection if she strode carefully.

As she began her manoeuvre, turning to her right and darting along the bottom of a narrow cutting, Eilidh perceived the footfall of those pursuing her had changed. Whereas, before, they had had the sound of men running, they now sounded as though they were galloping or somehow otherwise running on four legs. What's more, she realised with alarm, they seemed to be gaining upon her once more. Scrambling to a small rise, she peered over a tuft of heather through the trees again, hoping to learn she was mistaken. As she did so, she could make out two - no, three - shapes darting between the trees as though to pass by to her right. Her heart lurched as she saw they were, indeed, no longer shaped as men but ran on four legs. A loud growl tore the air and she realised with dread that she had been spotted as the shapes changed their path, now heading straight towards her.

In panic, all attempt at concealment thrown to the wind now she was discovered, she ran for her life to the bottom of the cutting and down the valley. Through trees and more trees she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her heed of direction now dictated more by wherever might lead her away most immediately from her pursuers than by any planned route to safety. Soon, she ran on flatter ground and was able to see them through the trees: one each side now and the third gaining from behind. They were huge - too large for wolves - and ran with a seemingly leisurely gait despite their pace. Another pang of dread coursed through her as she realised they were herding her as easily as a sheepdog would herd a wing-clipped goose.

"Oh... gods no!" Eilidh heaved under labouring breath as her way became ever more limited, "please no... no... no!" She pressed on in the only direction still open to her, and ran and ran and ran until her body had no more strength left for running and she knew she was lost, far beyond familiar ground. Stumbling into a small clearing, she saw her way was blocked at its far side by a fallen tree which, though not insurmountable, was sure to slow her to a disastrous halt as she scrambled over. In resignation and exhaustion, she sank to her knees and gasped for breath as she heard the three creatures slowly enter the clearing to surround her. Too afraid to look up at them or beg for mercy, Eilidh sank her head to the soft mossy ground in supplication. They had her: she was all alone and theirs.

Overcome with terror and sobbing between breaths, all she could do was submit to their will as her master had told her, in the desperate hope they weren't hungry. Above the racing of her blood hissing and throbbing in her ears in time with the pounding of her heartbeat, her eyes shut tightly with whitened knuckles pressed to her cheeks, she could hear them padding to and fro as though deciding what to do with her. For long minutes, they circled her until she felt a great tongue deliver a long lick upward from her heaving belly, over her naked sex and between her buttocks. Although the contact shook her with its intimacy, a part of her mind thanked providence that it was not the flesh rending bite of her fears, and she let out a long sigh of relief and resignation.

Her body still shaking from her pursuit, Eilidh suddenly felt herself straddled by large powerful forelegs. Trembling afresh with a mix of anticipation and terror, her body leaped at the touch of something hard and wet prodding against the lips of her pussy and over her mound, and she knew it could be nothing other than the first touch of his cock's tip as it jabbed and searched for her opening. Reeling with the immediate reality of her dread becoming urgent fact, she let out a frightened cry as she felt it thrust between her lips and over her clitoris - that sacred place which, until now, had been touched by no one but herself. The three or four following strokes sent her crotch spasming as they homed in until, in an instant shared by them both together, hit with the realisation that his tip had found her most inviolable hole. In that instant, they both knew he had her and there was nothing she could do to stop what must happen next.

Gripping her tighter with his forelegs, he hammered himself home, his frantic jabs quickly filling her and more, the quiet forest suddenly echoing with her cries as he tore through her maidenhood. Never in her life had she imagined she could be so penetrated. As she rocked and shook to the thrusts of his cock deep inside her, Eilidh began to feel something huge at its base forcing itself in and growing inside her as firmly as though it was filling her pelvis, while a fleshy rod seemed to reach her diaphragm. The bulge swelled and hardened until it filled her too fully to move in or out, instead pressing and throbbing an irresistible pleasure hard into her. They both knew she was his, locked tightly to his penis, now tied fast to her insides as though with a thick double knot of a ship's mooring rope, and she felt a sudden hot gushing within her. If she had dared to attempt escape at this point he would barely notice, such was the brute power of his attachment within her.

Her cries of anguish mixed with gasps of unexpected and savage pleasure, together with her involuntary clutching around his cock as her innards shook with a depth of rapture she had never thought possible, working the creature's excitement into an ever-replenishing succession of crescendos which carried her with them. Never had she felt such pleasure bursting so deep inside, only ever before feeling it tingling inward from her little joyful bean as she teased and rubbed it in stifled silence as she lay in her bed at night fantasising.

Now, in this moment, she was barely able to conceive of the loss of her virtue beyond the raw truth of its happening, such was her delirium at the creature's thrusting and surging within her, though its loss she felt keenly in her sex. All she knew beyond sensation was that this was not how she had imagined it would be. There was no Aengus Óg sending his birds to guide her into the arms of her love - no pressing her lips to his in the long kiss she so wished for - no romantic carry across a threshold - no long, passionate wedding night... only this brutal ravaging on her knees in the dirt.

After what seemed more than an hour, though less than her body told her he was capable of, he relented and, as he shrank and slipped out, she was free to crawl away shaking all over in the dirt with his fluid pouring out of her. As she sensed him moving away, Eilidh opened her eyes and craned her head towards him to see what it was that had despoiled her so savagely. It was neither wolf nor anything else she could give name to. Rather, he seemed to move between forms as she stared, eventually standing upright on two legs once more to stride slowly away between the trees and was gone. She knew then that her master had spoken truthfully and that this was, indeed, a Faoladh: a wolf-man of legend.

Lifting herself from her elbows to her hands, she began to crawl weakly in the opposite direction. She had not gone far before she felt another pair of bristly forelegs straddle her and the sound of excited panting over her head. She was completely exhausted but she summoned a shred of strength to raise her hips and present her still oozing opening obediently to the eager cock she knew must follow.

This time, there were no searching jabs - just a single full depth plunge, reaching her deepest parts in a second. Another series of savage plunges squelching and spattering in and out of her noisily, almost drowned out by her moaning, gasping and crying. Once again, she felt a pressure build within her and his knot pressing and pulsing with ever growing strength, and soon she was as tied as before.

The hardness of his knot pressed against the inside of Eilidh's pelvis, as tiredness began to overcome her, and her body began to drop. Still on her knees, she felt herself hanging from him as though an appendage. Although suspended from it, she was still filled to her deepest part by his cock as it began to fire his pleasure into her. More even than before, as though emphasised by hanging, she was filled with a sense of smallness, vulnerability and being a possession. The huge presence locked inside her, around which she was powerless to stop herself trembling with growing ecstasy, pulsed, jumped, squirted and gushed deep in her as though a part of her, until finally erupting into a searing orgasm that held her wailing and gibbering mindlessly.

Time lost its stride and her insensible consciousness swam in the tiny bubble of her body's rapture, its overpowering sensations banishing all awareness of others. She hung like a fruit from him in a stupefied haze until, in a sucking release of the shrinking knot and drop that brought her to her senses, she found herself free on the forest floor again.

The trees had grown dark around her and the sky barely discernible through the break in the canopy. It wouldn't be long before it was dark. Disoriented and gushing viscous liquid afresh from her sex, Eilidh crawled towards a gap in the edge of the clearing but was soon obstructed by the fallen tree. Exhausted, she let out a resigned sigh - but she must escape and find home. Reaching up the fallen trunk, she was encouraged to feel it small enough to almost crawl over. With a final effort to raise up to a kneeling crawl, she pulled herself on her stomach over the trunk.

The ground on the other side was a little lower, so she summoned a beyond-final effort to shuffle forward enough to almost rest on her elbows... almost. She tried to move a tiny bit further to get on her elbows and rest a moment. Pressing her toes into the ground and straightening her knees, Eilidh pushed her midriff over the tree until she felt her elbows meet the forest floor. With a sigh of relief, she submitted to her exhaustion and fell into a dream state filled with cascading echoes of the sensations and emotions just past.

She was rousted by a thunderbolt exploding like a cannonade in her deepest guts. A frantic, savage thrusting in and out by its full length that reeled her senses into a garbled scream. Through her waking panic, she became fleetingly aware of a familiar pair of legs around her shoulders. In despair, she realised she had forgotten the third creature... the biggest one!

As its thrusts focused deeper, the huge rod inside her thickened and hardened further and she felt herself becoming tied again. Her body was too tired to move a single muscle and her only movements were those of the Faoladh's. Her remaining energy was only enough to breathe through her frantic delirium beyond her pussy's continuous quivering and clutching until, neither mind nor body able to endure, she passed out.

It was pitch dark. Eilidh started awake from the fitful dream of a prey animal, hunted down and taken repeatedly. A dream crackling with fear of pursuit and so full of primal pleasure that her pussy throbbed and ached from it still upon awakening. Blinking, unseeingly in the darkness, she remembered where she was and realised the throb inside her wasn't a dream.

In despair, she tried to crawl forward but her legs were already wedged against the tree trunk and, above, the powerful Faoladh stood solid, with her turgid pussy secured solidly against the root of his crotch. So immediately obvious was it that even the tiniest movement was impossible, she sank down again to drift into a haze which ebbed and flowed as her body again became swamped with orgasmic waves, which rose and fell and washed through her like an incoming storm tide with the long pulses of shuddering ejaculations, in a succession which seemed never to lessen as the blackness of the night became that of her mind once more.

Again, Eilidh woke, bewildered. She was still over the tree and the Faoladh was still in her, panting slowly above her with his haunches resting on her buttocks. He was relaxed and was enjoying himself, and she couldn't move away from his tie - no more than her own flesh could free itself from her bones. Indeed, she could tell how much he was enjoying himself by the unrelenting power of his ejaculations.

She was as surprised by her wakefulness as by the fact she had slept. Indeed, she struggled to fathom how she could have while this monster was fucking her, and lay stunned by the thought until the sensations in her pussy grew and distracted her. Her breath caught as she felt herself grip around the huge knot in response. The knot pulsed in answer and her pussy replied and the knot pulsed ever harder, building to a fresh climax from that newly discovered place within her. Her gasps became mixed with moans and cries as another great storm of orgasms drifted and crashed through her.

There was no tiredness to shield Eilidh from its onslaught this time. The sky lightened through the trees overhead without her noticing, face to the earth, her body and mind held in their animal servitude to the Faoladh's unearthly clench inside her, unable to shift her mind's eye from the heaving spectre of his cock and her ever more beguiled pussy's runaway self-will to tantalise and reward it... the only part of her that would not tire.

Eilidh was oblivious to the Faoladh's steady panting above her as she rode the journey of the storm, through a symphony of sensations as, knot firmly holding her to his groin, his cock heaved and leapt and jumped - sometimes its hole meeting her cervix's, shooting jets of his seed straight into her womb where it swirled and bubbled as neither predecessors' had - his knot twitching and throbbing. The storm crackled and rolled and boomed with all the sensory lightning the mind could conjure and more, to which her pussy always replied with its teasing, no matter how she tried to stop it. Its delirium washed over her and she was held stupefied, paralysed and transfixed by an inescapable focus upon every tiny sensation where his flesh met hers.

Echoes of orgasms resounded and detonated afresh as she saw nothing through wide eyes, their power never failing to surprise and overwhelm. Drool hung from her lower lip in imitation of his liquid dripping from her crotch. It was as though his cock, as well as fucking the living daylights out of her, had hijacked her every nerve and sense with an irresistible demand that there must be one focus and only one focus: it... that incredible monster penis and her vagina's helpless state of joy around it. Nothing else existed - nothing else could ever exist.

It went on and on and on... and on... and on...

Eventually, a quieter air descended and Eilidh sensed the Faoladh's knot ease its hold a bit. Her mind raced to decide whether to try to escape, but she was still in a haze. She knew she couldn't move forward because her legs were over the tree, but she couldn't move back because the creature's monstrous cock was holding her - moving back would just force him into her more. Then there was the danger any movement might arouse him again.

She decided to wait, motionless, and hoped his knot might shrink enough to drop out as he lost interest, satiated. After a time, she felt his knot release and its base start to creep outwards. In her relief, she let out a sigh and tried to open herself up to ease its passing. It widened her opening as it began to slide out and a wave of pleasure flashed through her. Letting out a gasp, she managed to resist her pussy's urge to tease the knot and was rewarded by feeling it pull out a little further. But its widening of her opening sent her another wave, and this time she could not stop the reply. It twitched down upon the knot in a series of sharp clenching spasms and she cried out.

Frantic, Eilidh couldn't stop herself and she was sure she felt his knot throb. Oh my gods, the thought screamed in her head, did it?.. whatever, she had to get free of it. Its widest point was just inside her. With a sharp tug forward, she might just be able to yank herself off it before it grew again. She summoned all her strength, digging her toes into the ground and straightening her legs, whilst grabbing at roots with her hands to pull herself off the tree. It worked - it was out... almost... just a tiny bit more!

The tightness of its exit - now she was very open - sent Eilidh another jolt of pleasure and her pussy began trembling. For the briefest moment her mind flashed unexpectedly with the mental image of a man's gorgeous long thick erection of the sort she would imagine as she lay in bed, the kind that has a lovely thick veiny shaft and a powerfully prominent bell moist with pre-cum to rub her insides, and she couldn't help imagining the feel of it sliding into her and over her newfound spot. It was a fleeting thought of less than a second, a momentary break of concentration, but her body heard it as a long, loud scream of desire. Its response was instant, faster than her despair, as she exerted a series of trembling grips down upon the Faoladh's knot.

Eilidh made a last attempt to pull herself away from it but, instead of pulling out, she felt it pulse, so she held suddenly very still. Its widest part was still in her opening, without any sign of which way it might go - but go it must and would, one way or the other soon, such was its size. Another pulse, this time stretching her further and triggering her trembling answer again. Another pulse followed by another answer and more, and she became lost in an ever loosing battle over who owned her sex. It was her pussy so she must be able to stop it clutching and teasing his cock, yet it was now completely under the control of that cock, quivering and orgasming beyond her control, and all she could do was submit.

Crying in denial, Eilidh felt the knot stretch her again. Her body shook and she tried to twist her head around to look at the Faoladh as he stood in silhouette over her, as though to plead with him to let her go. He looked down at her, as her eyes became held in the hollow darkness of his glare, she felt him move his hind legs a fraction. There was something elemental in his look - yet something undeniably human shining from his face still shaded in the morning's twilight - and she smiled tearfully at him in thankfulness for her release as she felt a tug of his knot. Her pussy suddenly gripped it, as if trying to pull it back in and it swelled more. Despite the gripping of her pussy, she tried to plead with him that she didn't want to be fucked any more.

"Please," Eilidh implored between gasps, "please... stop fucking... me!" But all she sensed he felt was his pleasure inside her, coupled with the ever insistent signals of her own pleasure around him, so surely it was little wonder he could not fathom any objection in her orgasmic clutching and gibbering... yet she knew he understood.

Held mesmerised in the Faoladh's dark gaze, his eyes mere pinpoints of light shining down at her from the blackness of his orbs, she felt his groin press into her. His domination saw Eilidh's eyes widen to a mad stare, as she felt him push his knot back into her and her hole close behind it to grip his shaft once again. Now, all the way in, his knot pulled the fur of his crotch warmly against her labia. More jerking of his cock presaged a renewed flood of ejaculations and she felt herself plunge into another storm of her body's madness. There was nothing she could do.

Much later, although not anywhere near relenting, she hoped more than she sensed in her haze that her use to the Faoladh might soon be spent. He looked about, as did she, at the trees all around starting to catch the first light of the new day. He moved back a little and she felt herself pulled back with him. As he stepped his forelegs back around to face the other way, she felt his knot still hard in her. He took another couple of steps and she was dragged all the way off the tree trunk and over the grassy ground a short way. She was still tied firmly, now butt to butt with him.

He was an immense creature and, with an effort to lift herself aided by the end of a branch jutting from the fallen tree, Eilidh found she could stand on tip-toe with her rear hard against his. She lifted her torso almost upright and she felt his knot tug at her, to which it responded by growing and hardening further suddenly. She was still his possession in every way imaginable. Without looking, she heard his breathing become a pant and her body began to rock in time with his crotch's increasingly excited jerks. His cock jutted and thrashed in a crazed and frantic replay of first entry, only now already full depth behind his immovable knot.

The effect on her sent Eilidh into a flood of jabbering guttural screams, as she was thrust back and forth, pushed and dragged. She felt her insides move and squeeze around the huge leaping cock as it yanked her backward then stabbed at her womb like an unbraked windlass churning at twice or thrice per second, all held firm by the knot. She was only just able to stay on her feet, carried largely by her tie with the Faoladh, though easier after a time as his thrusts lessened. Her relief at its slowing was quickly replaced with the shock of a huge ejaculation booming into her womb, where she felt it washing, swirling and mixing with the rest already in there.

Eilidh tried to look around her, but it was an impossible task to draw her mind away from what was happening to her body and her body's automatic responses, and her inescapable enjoyment of its devastating power made nothing else in the world attention worthy. Why, her body asked, would she think other thoughts when this orgasm was here to carry her away?.. no contest, the body decided, and so nothing else could exist.

Nevertheless, she found a window - a tiny aperture - in the veil of her mind's prison and looked out of it at the forest around her. Above the canopy, the sun was up and leaves all around were basking in it. She was in a small clearing surrounded by trees of varying size, their bright green foliage contrasting with the towering orange-brown boughs and deep green crowns of the old Caledonian pines above. A few lower shrubs of young gorse and broom dotted their yellow flowers around the clearing's edge, with the carpet of grass underfoot amongst the heather and bluebells nestling around the fallen pine tree, creating a warm, green pool of light amidst the faint hum of insects and drifting hints of wild garlic. Despite everything, or perhaps because of it, it was more beautiful than she had ever seen. Mesmerised by the sight, and swimming in a fog of pleasure, Eilidh's focus ebbed and flowed as though in a dream.

She was jerked to her senses by a sudden tug backwards. Twisting herself around awkwardly, she could see the creature's form, now visible in daylight. He was undoubtedly a wolf, yet very clearly not. His dark, course fur rose to a thick hackle down the length of his muscular back in lines of grey and brown from a long, shaggy mane shrouding his broad shoulders and the top of his head between a pair of slightly rounded ears, his pelt softening and lightening to a creamy russet as it grew down his flanks until it almost shone gold towards his belly. As far as she could make out, his paws, whilst much like those of a dog or wolf, seemed longer with a clawed digit in place of a dewclaw - starkly reminiscent of what she knew must be his human form. She could see little of his face, save a short, light brown snout and great sharp teeth, all of which only added to his terror and mystery.

His pull was insistent and irresistible as she was dragged by the Faoladh, who seemed intent upon something unseen. He started to walk towards the trees and, still tied solidly, she was pulled behind him. She made a futile token attempt to stay where she was, but his knot surged and yanked her into compliance, her rear held against the fur of his as his tail waved over her back. His pace increased and she was pulled away from the clearing, trotting backwards feebly on her toes as best she could.

Eilidh stumbled on a root and suddenly she was hanging fully on the Faoladh's knot, scrambling with her hands and feet to right herself. Her weight didn't seem to bother him as he continued onward apace. Her flailing was futile as gaining a footing was impossible, until exhaustion gave her up and she allowed herself to be carried, dangling behind him with feet trailing over the occasional root or mound. Her journey through the forest as his appendage took her up and down slopes and along tracks, sometimes only as discernible as the faintest of deer paths. Occasional halts seemed often caused by the tie, whereupon she felt a trembling in his knot and his squirting and her spasming grew, and she was seized by more crashes of helpless pleasure, only her flesh truly aware of the potency of his magic seeping into her. He would slow to a stand, panting and looking about, as she hung from him shaking and crying.

Soon, he stopped at a stream to slake his thirst. The percussion of his gulps and swallows travelled through his body and cock into Eilidh - just as she could feel him cumming or moving, she could feel him drinking. After his fill, he turned around to allow her to drink. Reaching down as much as she could as he lowered his haunches a way, she cupped her hands and lifted them to her mouth to take a slurp.

Just before it reached her lips, Eilidh was jerked sharply back and the water spilled from her hands. She let out a long cry of frustration and tried to turn to look at the Faoladh, squinting against the glare of the sun in her face. She knew he was staring straight back at her. He gave her another jerk as he watched her and she understood he was letting her know that he was in charge: her master now. The reality of her capture - its completeness - hit her. Bursting into tears, nodding as she sobbed, she begged him to let her go - to let his knot shrink and ignore her pussy's teasing clasps - and let all his cum flow out of her. But the mere thought of her pussy's teasing set off a cascade of spasms in her which reduced her to a low shaky moan. She looked up at him and he gave her another little tug. She gasped again, nodding and sobbing her complete submission.

Once she regained some self-control, Eilidh reached down again for water. This time, she drank it from her hands. She took another couple of drinks, savouring its purity as it sparkled into her, before she felt herself pulled by the Faoladh again. Once more, she was drawn with him through the forest, accompanied by the same rhythm of slowing for periods of pleasure whenever her body decided to tease him or when he became aroused on his own.

Eventually, he brought her to another clearing, where he wandered to a scrub of wild raspberries growing around one side. She reached to pick them and ate them hungrily until only those left were hard and green. After a short time, the Faoladh pulled her to the soft grass in the centre, where he lay down, drawing her down with him. She lay still on her side with her butt against his, with his knot as secure in her as ever. She felt herself shivering around it. The summer air was warm and she felt no chill in her nakedness, even after the night just past, and she knew her shivers came from an ever bubbling geyser of barely contained sexual excitement within her. Dwelling on the merest feel of it lifted the lid and it all came bubbling and boiling over, its pleasure shooting upward into her mind where it banished awareness of all else. She lay in a quivering heap for some time until she was able to string her thoughts together again.

As she lay very still, listening to the magical creature's great, deep breaths, and feeling his rhythm through her, Eilidh wondered how she came to be so fully taken by a being so powerful - so wilful and determined to have her - so impossible to resist - so securely fixed inside her without any hope of escape. She thought further. It must have been the position she was in, she reasoned, that had laid her wide open over the tree trunk. The Faoladh was able to enter her fully with the first stroke of his cock without her yielding forward at all, and his knot grew as deep as his body would allow. He was tied within her all night as she lay, unable to move - the only movement, his gushing cock inside her eager pussy. His knot must somehow have swollen slowly through the night and early dawn to fill her every inner turn and fold and then, in such a prolonged state, taken it as its natural shape. Meaning... if the knot inside her now was in that same shape, it was not just a swollen ball but one holding and gripping itself into her every fold.

Such a close bonding would surely create much heightened sensation in both him and her, the irresistible arousal crashing her into near paralysis from its rapture, and explain why she was now so inseparable from him. Or maybe it was the fucking he gave her when he was already knotted inside her, its savagery rearranging her innards around his knot, whose shape she now had taken. In any case, whether he was gripping her or she was gripping him, or they were both gripping each other, or they were locked together in some other way by some kind of magic, she was where she was. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Eilidh awakened into darkness. Night had fallen while she'd lain on the soft grass. The air was still warm from the day and stars filled the sky over the clearing. She lay gathering her thoughts as she stared up at Slighe Chlann Uisnich as it stretched its way across the edge of the sky where it gave way to the blackness of the trees around them, wishing it would carry her spirit up to join with the others dancing together across the heavens. Her butt was still up against the Faoladh's and she was still tied solidly with him. He stirred in his sleep, and let out a short whimper as his hind legs twitched briefly next to hers. It seemed to her he must be dreaming, and she wondered what he might be dreaming about. In the next moment, she knew without any doubt he was dreaming about sex.

As his twitches became more frenzied and his short whimpers became lustful growls, Eilidh felt him awakening inside her. He may have been asleep in his head, but his sex was fully up and about. As he kicked and twitched, rocking her with him, she felt his dream coming to life inside her: his pursuit of his prey, the running to ground, capture, subduing and finally taking. The final part was playing out very literally inside her, as his relish of his prey unfolded in his dream and in his throbbing cock's increasingly frenzied jutting, leaping and squirting. Although asleep, he still had her tethered firmly without any hope of escape. She realised she was every bit as much a sexual slave to his wandering sleeping thoughts and dreams as she was to his fully awakened will, and when it dawned on her that he was dreaming about sex with her specifically, she was plunged helplessly into another storm of shrieking orgasms that swept her up and carried her away into the remainder of the night.

She awoke in the dawn, dimly aware of being pulled across the grassy ground before she felt her hips lifted up as the Faoladh stood. Letting out a weary sob as she hung from his rear, she pleaded with him to lay back down and let her sleep - she couldn't take any more. He stopped and turned to look at her and she sank back down to the soft grass. Once down, she felt drowsiness wash over her again and, through it, she sensed his knot move a little. She felt a sudden gurgling in the pit of her stomach, and cum oozed then poured out of her as she succumbed to a deep sleep once more.

When Eilidh woke again, it was bright and sunny, the warm rays heating her uppermost side. Her side upon the grass was cool and ached slightly from the imprint of a few scattered tiny stones and twigs. She turned over dozily to warm her other side, moving her legs awkwardly over the Faoladh's body until the backs of her legs rested against the long fur of his back. As she turned, she felt his knot shift within her and, with a succession of farting squelches, another gush of cum drained past it and out of her pussy onto the ground. No longer concerned with decorum in any way, she loosened her bladder and felt a warm flow of urine run down her thigh then, once relieved, tensed her stomach to eject more cum and felt it streaming out of her. She felt the mess she lay in but could no longer bring herself to care.

The sleeping Faoladh's knot felt looser inside her now and, encouraged by a slim chance of freedom, Eilidh pulled against it. Perhaps she could tug herself off it before he woke and make her escape. Her pussy's opening began to stretch wider as she pulled slowly, and the knot eased outward. Her opening trembled and squeezed in protest and a sudden pulse stopped the knot in its tracks, and she groaned in despair. Another great throbbing pulse followed by more swelled the knot back to its full size. The Faoladh stirred and pushed his groin against her and she felt his knot finding and nestling into its numerous tight places deep in her folds. As she lay defeated, Eilidh felt it resume its grip within them and her labia tingle against the soft fur of his warm sheath as she encircled tightly around the base of his shaft, still squeezing happily outwith her control. She was still his. Even her own body wanted it, actively thwarting its own escape.

The Faoladh snorted and began to stand and, once again, Eilidh was lifted up by his knot. This time, she was on her back behind him, with her legs flailing upward either side of his flanks. As he raised further, she hung upside down behind him, her shoulders then back of her head dragging across the damp ground. The tension of their tie unleashed a cascade of throbbing and squirting and she cried in reluctant pleasure as her womb was filled again by fierce, stabbing jets of his cum.

After a time, the Faoladh lowered his haunches slightly and Eilidh was able to stand herself upright, now facing his back. Sensing her upright, he raised himself again. Looking down past her belly, bulging visibly with the volume of his fluid in her womb, she ran her hands down herself and felt the shape of his knot under her skin locked hugely within her pelvis. She could feel it still locked into her shape, despite the turn. She ran her hands upward to feel the hard outline of his cock extending up from his knot reaching to her womb. It surged and jumped at her touch. Further down, protruding from her pussy to his crotch, the thick shaft of his cock's base and her labia, squeezing around it rhythmically. All the time, his cock leaped around in irrepressible excitement.

He walked away and Eilidh was pulled forward with him, his tail stroking softly across her breasts, tantalising her sensitive nipples erect, and tickling her cheeks and ears. This time, facing the right way, walking with him through the forest was a little easier, albeit still on the tips of her toes. She gripped the thick fur of his back to hold herself to him when his pace increased. Her travels with him took her on a long tour of drinking and foraging spots, where they replenished from the land and abluted together. As she became accustomed to matching her stride with his as much as she was able, and steadying herself on his hackles, travelling with him became ever easier. When she tired, she pulled herself further over his back to lie astride him as though a saddle, gripping the fur of his maned shoulders and raising her legs over his tail with her knees to his flanks. He seemed easily able to carry her like this. All the time, his knot held her firmly in place from behind.

As she lay over him, Eilidh's senses were filled completely by his warm fur and his cock's supernatural hold as her erogenous zones were squeezed and massaged between. In this position, she could feel him more than ever, pulsing as he came inside her, her senses awakened afresh to the journey of each squirt. It seemed to her that her body was learning its place around him, tuning itself to his, and growing together as though by some kind of magic. Their flesh, senses and very nerves themselves were joining, merging and becoming one. Surprise was gradually replaced with anticipation, though no less overwhelming for the change - indeed, its joy heightening with each passing hour.

Her mind blanked out everything else until such sensation became her whole world - an ever repeating cascade she was powerless to escape. Each blast of his seed into her was presaged by a rise in his knot's throb triggering a hardening and thickening of his shaft as she gripped it with her inner labia, which she could feel surging through his knot and up his thick, spongy shaft until it fired hotly out of his tip and jetted into her. Upon each pulse of his shaft, she felt her labia respond with a tightening spasm - at each throb of his knot, a quivering tingle of her g-spot - and each squirt, a push of her cervix against his tip as it pursed and spat his magical seed hot and hard into her womb.

Endlessly, she was imprisoned in a series of irresistible waves washing and crashing through her. As her body became imprinted with its rhythm, Eilidh's cervix trembled in anticipation of every squirt upon feeling his knot's throb, as her now fully ignited g-spot trembled in eager anticipation of every next throb upon every squirt, over and over and over, with only ever increasing potency as they travelled. There was nothing she could do to release herself or stop it growing in ever greater power, until her stomach was heaving and her hips rolling in time with his strides and squirts... nor did she now wish for any such release.

This wasn't like being fucked in any sense her body might know. This, Eilidh felt as instinctively as sunlight might tell a fresh flower it was day, in spite of her naïvety. Even between her climaxes, there was nothing placid - instead only a ceaseless and incremental edging, at once torturous and a delight, running through her: the drip becoming a rivulet, which became a flow, then a gush, then a torrent growing to a raging crescendo which flooded through her as she gushed and flooded back in response around it, all amidst the muscular rhythm of his hips as they flexed below her singing clitoris. For uncountable hours, it threw her around his back as she convulsed and cried out mindlessly in forced ecstasy, barely aware of her surroundings.

Eventually, the Faoladh took Eilidh along a trail which seemed familiar somehow. A tiny voice in the back of her mind broke through the onslaught of her body's delight to tell her she knew it as one of those leading to her master's lodge. As she lay across his back, her breasts parted by his hackles, she felt his cock still jumping vigorously within her, spewing its furiously purpose laden ejaculations, and her pussy responding unabated. Still, his knot throbbed, and still she felt her explosive spasms around it. Dazed again and again by her cascading climaxes, she closed her eyes as she just managed to retain her grip while the Faoladh sauntered onward seemingly unaffected. He carried her along like this for a while, as she lay in the delirium of the edging and orgasming which assailed and shredded her senses with unstoppable regularity, until her orgasmic hysteria sank her into oblivion as the forest echoed with the impuissant moans and shrieks of her captive pleasure.

Her consciousness resurfaced at last and she realised they had come to a halt. Opening her eyes, Eilidh's bleary focus alit on the stone steps of her master's lodge, the tread-polished edges of the steps glistening in the fading evening light that danced and flickered as the sun peeked low through small gaps in the gently blowing trees. There didn't seem to be anyone in or awake as there was no candlelight from any window, nor smoke from the chimney. The Faoladh walked over to the deep, even grass of the unkempt lawn and lay down, causing her to roll off his back. Only his knot stopped her rolling further. Gradually, she was surprised to feel it releasing its grip of her internal folds and shrink down. She felt tempted to pull away to free herself of it but she resisted, partly in fear of reigniting its fire, so she held still tying desperately to suppress her pussy's insistent teasing.

With a sudden squelching plop and gush, she was free. Her insides felt strangely empty and she felt her body mourn the withdrawal of such recent and copious pleasure. She was almost persuaded to rise up onto her knees once more to offer herself to him afresh and journey again in such ecstasy through nature's beauty. Instead, she staggered to her feet and stumbled exhausted along a last ray of light from the setting sun towards the lodge, her body still spasming and jolting with echoes of pleasure, with the Faoladh close behind. As she reached the heavy oak door, she turned to face him and he looked back at her through pale blue eyes...

Those pale blue eyes she knew so well..!

Eilidh fell to her knees before her laird and master. "Laird Dubhghall!" she gasped, her heart racing with such revelatory recognition, and he licked her face as she threw her arms around his neck and held herself to him in a shaking embrace. Her womb swirled with his magical seed as it swam within her, awaiting and seeking the release of her egg, and she shook with the lightning flash of its triumph in that very moment. That instant of conception unleashed an ageless wisdom that he had transformed her and she stood again, knowing she was no longer the being she had been when last standing there. Now she was the light to balance his darkness and at last, after all these years, Eilidh understood her naming. As she watched him turn to walk away into the deepening dark of the forest, he stopped and turned to look back briefly and then he was gone. As she entered the lodge to await his return as a man once more, she had no doubt in her mind that she'd see him again in this wild form - perhaps for even longer next time... certainly for as long as he chose... perhaps forever.

Note: I haven't spoken Gaelic since I was a young child, so I'm a little rusty to say the least, thus I offer the following without warranty...

• Eilidh: Gaelic girl's name meaning Light.

• Dubhghall: Gaelic boy's name meaning Dark Stranger.

• A' Choille Dhubh: translates as The Dark Forest which, in Celtic legend, usually refers to the ancient Caledonian forest.

• Faoladh: wolf-man of Celtic legend who, whilst fearsome and libidinous with an ardour for maidens, has a kind heart and who guides lost children and well-meaning travellers through the dark Caledonian forest to safety.

• Là Bealltainn: Gaelic name for Beltane, midway between spring equinox and summer solstice.

• Grianstad an t-Samhraidh: Gaelic name for Litha, the summer solstice.

• Aengus Óg: the Celtic god of love brings lovers together similarly to Cupid.

• Slighe Chlann Uisnich: translates as Track of the Children of Uisneach, one of the ancient Celtic names for The Milky Way, denoting intertwining spirits.

I had wanted to use ancient Celtic units of measurement but thought it might confuse and spoil the flow of narrative, so I stuck to imperial...

• Troighid: translates as Foot, 1 troighid ≈ 10 inches (~25cm)

• Bas: translates as Palm, 1 bas ≈ 3.3 inches (~8cm)

• Ordlach: translates as Thumb-length, 1 ordlach ≈ 0.8 inches (2cm)

• 1 Furlong ≈ 201m

• 5ft 3in = 160cm