Baby Doll Ch. 02

When she was young and living with her parents, she was only allowed to ride in the yard, and she tired of that quickly; there hadn't been any pavement or concrete to ride on, only rough grass. She abandoned her childhood bike within a month. Her father had been kind of upset about it. He kept the bike in an old storage shed for a long time, hoping she'd use it one day. Eventually, the bike became a donation to some kid Rebecca didn't know.

The familiar crunching and whirring of a car came to her ears. She checked behind herself and saw a car coming up the lane she was in. She went off the road for a moment, even though she was pretty sure she didn't legally have to. She had to be careful, though, not to fall into a ditch. There was a lot of litter and old rain water there. She trembled as the car went by. She hated being so vulnerable around moving cars.

Rebecca's head moved this way and that as she wondered how long she had been riding. It was getting a little bit dark. Disgust at her own lack of care swelled up in her heart. She should have been paying attention to the time. She should have been more controlled. She was such a child sometimes. Her brow furrowed and she cursed at herself. She hated herself. She really was an irresponsible brat.

"Don't you worry, Baby. Papa's got you. You can be a kid as much as you want."

She squealed and hopped off the bike. A hand on a handle, she scanned the general area. Nobody was there. It was just her imagination, her brain recollecting a memory. She put a finger against an eyelid and gently rubbed. She couldn't forget him. She couldn't escape him, even when she was pretty sure he couldn't find her. It wasn't like she put all of her business on the Internet like an idiot.

A black car went down the road. Her body was a ice for a few seconds as her eyeballs strained to look at the vehicle. It was going pretty fast, and she honestly didn't know much about cars. It looked like, though ... it looked sort of like ...

There was a man in the driver's seat. She couldn't make out his face, but he had long blond hair, and he seemed so muscular and cruel looking ...

Her body wasn't ice anymore; it was energized fear. Rebecca forgot she even had a bike. She tried to run through the ditch and straight into the woods. She ended up screaming, falling into the litter, and cutting her arm with a broken beer bottle. Her clothing absorbed a bit of water. Small bugs stuck to her skin. It really fucking hurt; it downright burned. Her knee and thigh was sore from the fall. Various bits of her skin were raw. The helmet protected her head, though. At least there was that.

The car just went on by. The driver, whoever it was, either didn't notice her or didn't think she was worth noticing. That was a relief, but she was upset about her arm. There was a line of oozing blood from her elbow to just under her wrist. She was scared to death that she might bleed out, or at least get an infection, but then she looked a bit closer. The cut was the worst near the elbow, and it wasn't very deep overall. At least she didn't ruin any fancy manicures that took ages to finish. She had bare fingernails this day, short and clean.

A growl.

There was an animal's growl.

"Huh?"

Pressure against her belly.

The ground seemed to be pulling away from her. No ... no! She was being pulled from the ground! Something hot and smelly was taking her away!

What?!

Rebecca struggled, but the trees quickly ran past her eyes. The road faded into the woods. She screamed again. Blood was pounding in her head. She was pretty sure she was upside down. She was also pretty sure she could see something like ... legs? Hairy legs? They were moving so fast. She couldn't be positive.

And everything stopped. She was placed onto her feet. She was still in the woods, but ... but ... this ...

This was just a guy in a furry costume, right? Rebecca couldn't believe it was anything else. Large, thick man, mostly in dark brown fur, there was a smell, musk and dirt. Those feet, those heavy legs, they weren't shaped right. Strange, clawed things, pressing into the grass, darkened by shadows and the fading sunlight. She was darkened too. She looked up a little.

She said out loud, forgetting to be scared for a moment, "Oh that's a penis." There was a touch of surprise in her tone, but nothing outrageous. That was definitely a penis, a human penis. That was part of the costume, right?

A hand, it had to be a hand; there was a thumb. This hair covered person took the wrist of Rebecca's damaged arm. She flinched and squirmed, even tried kicking at his shin, which had no outcome other than a defeated woman's wail. Her eyes moved up; a bit of uncovered skin was there, an abdomen and a chest's worth, all dark and almost matching the color of the fur. Damn, it looked like a ripped man's torso. What a costume.

Something slick and moist ran up her arm.

"The hell?" Rebecca's gaze moved higher.

But ... but ... if that was a costume ... how in the shit ...?

Claws were on its fingers, but the tips barely touched her skin, if any did at all. The palms seemed padded. Under the strange hand, there was a hairless face, and it seemed ... human-like ... kind of ... the nose and mouth were outstretched, similar to a muzzle. The reason why Rebecca was so worried was because the mouth was open.

There was hot breath caressing her skin. There was a great tongue scraping away blood. There was a set of teeth she really didn't want to touch. There was saliva. There was everything you should never find in a costume's mouth. The pathetic attempt at figuring out the situation was frying her brain. She might as well have met Cthulhu himself.

Nope. This was a crap-ton of nope.

She started yelling it out loud. "Nope! Nope!" She tried pulling away again. "NOPE! JUST LET ME NOPE ON OUT OF HERE!!" This fur ... guy ... wasn't going to let her go. He used his free arm to slam her against his front. He didn't smell like shit, but he didn't smell like fresh flowers either. Rebecca put her unclaimed hand to her nose. She just wasn't accustomed to this.

Her helmet and fanny pack were making this position slightly more uncomfortable. This guy's clawed hand was sliding up and down her back, and she didn't know what to make of it. That tongue of his was all over her injury. It kind of hurt sometimes, since her cut was stinging and throbbing.

"God damn it, nobody's going to believe this," she murmured. But, he probably wouldn't her go anyway. She was going to be murdered, wasn't she? She sniffed. Some tears tried to sneak away from her eyes.

Low rumbling was in his chest, as if the growling was softening.

The tongue wasn't on her wound anymore. The clawed hands ran up and down her body, like a pat down, but more humiliating. Rebecca tried to slip down and out of the situation, but the furry person just yanked her right back and kept on feeling her out, inspecting her, and she was pretty sure that was what he was doing.

She looked up at fierce eyes with gold colored irises. There seemed to be a bit of swelling on one eye, and she didn't know why. His breath rushed in and out of his peculiar nose, not quite human but not quite inhuman either. Wait, his ears were pointy. Rebecca was reminded of a slightly old anime in which a school girl kept caressing a protesting man's ears with her fingertips. He had pointy ears, and so did this furry guy that held Rebecca so closely, but his weren't on top of his head. They were closer to where a human would have ears.

She had to ask. She just had to ask. Odds were, he probably understood English. "Hey, Dude, are you Bigfoot?"

His gold eyes paused at her face. His brow furrowed. Then he pushed his face into the side of her throat and sniffed over and over. It tickled more than she'd like to admit, and she repressed a giggle.

"Okay, Buddy! Okay! I probably smell terrible! Don't rub it in!" Rebecca was reminded of a time when her father had wanted a puppy; this was years ago. The first thing that puppy did when Rebecca had picked it up was sniff at her face and throat. Then it chewed on her hair.

Her helmet crashed against an exposed tree root.

Did he just unbuckle her helmet? What? Rebecca had been too distracted by the sniffing and her own struggles to notice when he did that.

And he freaking chewed on her hair. His mouth was on her low ponytail ... and he was chewing on her god damn hair. He even made a few gentle tugs. Was this funny? Should she laugh? When that puppy from long ago had chewed on her hair, she had laughed so hard she peed herself.

His mouth went to her cheek, and she thought she would die from the uncertainty of it.

His teeth barely touched her skin, little tapping motions. Sometimes, there was a tiny pinch, but she didn't think her skin was being broken. It seemed so fantastical to her. She was too afraid to move her face. What if she ended up actually being bitten?

The teeth drew back, leaving behind little spots of saliva on her face. Rebecca looked up. He was tilting his head back. From that strange mouth a long howl erupted. Her muscles vibrated from the force of it. She put her palms to her ears and jumped.

"Woah, woah, woah, WOAH!! Woah, Buddy!"

He stopped. He blinked down at her, seeming to frown, if a frown was possible with that mouth of his. She was still trembling from the burst of noise he had made. "Hey Buddy, why'd you howl like that? You got some friends?" Oh no, what if there were more like him? She gulped.

His head tilted. A pointed ear twitched. He was so tall it was almost scary. She kind of wanted to yank on that ear and pull his head down. That wasn't a good idea, though. He wasn't trying to hurt her, so why hurt him? "Alright, I've made an executive decision. Your name's Buddy now." She tried to step back, but her body met his palm. Her smile was forced. "Soooooooo ... uhm ... yeah ... I need to to go home ... aaaaaaaaaaaand ... yeah." She clapped her hands together in front of her bosom. "I'm just going to scooch on out!"

A thick arm of muscle and fur stopped her.

"Buddy!" Her laughter was weak and nervous. "Buddy, listen, I'd love to stay here and figure out how the hell you're even a thing, but I got shit to do."

He sniffed at her throat again.

"Come on Buddy! I got to go!"

The frightening hands went to her hips and slowly pushed her so that she was walking backwards. She ended up leaning against a tree. "Uhm ... Buddy?"

He was looking down at her face, right into her eyes. His fingers were pulling, tugging, and her fanny pack was at her feet.

Panicked, eyes bulging, Rebecca choked out, "Buddy?"

The jeans and panties were shoved down to her knees. The cooling air whispered against her black pubic hair.

That was a fuck-ton of nope!

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT NO!!" She was shrieking, trying to get away, clawing at him with her pathetic little nails. He was pinning her to the tree with those padded palms of his, kneeling ...

Why would he need to kneel if he was planning on doing some beastly forest-rape?

A tongue ... a tongue ... was he really ...?

"Oh my ... god." Quivering little words, they barely had a chance to exist in this fragile world, this darkening world, this world of beasts and madness, of pleasure that must have been forbidden. She closed her eyes and turned her head. All at once, she was embarrassed, bewildered, and shaking.

First, labia, up and down, wet, satiny, firm, over and over, blood was thickening in the skin there, the tender bits of skin that only wanted more and more pressure. A pause from the creature, then inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, the breathing repeated right at her excitable little slit, and he was soon giving more earnest sniffs.

She wasn't fighting him anymore. Her hands were shoved against her twisting mouth. Her eyelids tightened over her sight. Little mewls, tiny frightened noises, she smothered them.

Oh no ... there ... the clit ... he sniffed right there and then he ran that tongue of his over it. Her thighs quivered. If there wasn't a tree behind her, she would have fallen apart.

"Hhnnnnnnnnnnn!" She refused to whine openly. Her hands desperately tried to hide her voice.

Again, he lapped, and again, and again, and soon she couldn't count. She forgot the meaning of the word count. She almost forgot what words were. Violently, her head moved back and forth. She was screaming against her hands.

Something in her brain broke. Her knees stopped functioning, but that didn't matter because he held her up. Burning ... burning ... electric wind blew through her body.

"Don't stop, oh please don't stop!" Her hands forgot their objective. They switched sides and dug into the creatures head, reveling in the fur's coarse texture. "Please! I'm sorry! Please! I can't!"

She cried so hard her throat burned. Her hips were pounding against that muzzle of a face. The bark of the tree behind her scratched her arms and buttocks.

And it was over for her. She was still, except for her coughing. Her hands fell.

He sniffed her again, slower, as if he was enjoying laundry fresh and clean from the dryer. Spent, doubtful of what had just occurred, Rebecca stared at him, observed his strange ecstasy.

Then he stopped and looked up at her. Then he nodded. Apparently, he had made his own executive decision. He rose, pulling her underwear and pants up with him. Then he leaned down for just a moment to pick up the fanny pack and shove it into her shaky hands.

Oh ... that was it, then? No forest-rape? Just clit licking ... and sniffing? She could handle that. She could handle that any day of the week. She managed to adjust her underwear and pants so that they fit correctly and buckle her fanny pack on. Then she reclaimed her helmet.

"So ... uhm?" Rebecca hugged herself and giggled. "I need to go home now. It's getting dark." She was lifted up over his shoulder right after she said that. It knocked the wind out of her for a few seconds. Then she said, "Hey, Buddy! If I give you my address, you think you'll know where to go?" She sucked ass at giving people directions. She also thought that if this guy could understand English, then maybe he could read road signs?

His hand patted her backside.

"Okay then, Buddy! Feel free to carry me home!"

And after she had recited the address, he zoomed off. It didn't take long at all to reach the edge of the woods, right at the backyard of her home. He plopped her down and ran away faster than a customer on Black Friday entering a store.

She couldn't see him, but she did make a waving gesture in his general direction.

When she entered the house, she saw Jessa watching a pointless reality show on TV. "How was your day, Tiny?" She didn't look away from the screen. She probably couldn't even see what color Rebecca's shirt was.

"Fine." She hoped nobody would notice that her bicycle was missing. Trying to be casual, she slipped into her bedroom, turned on the ceiling light, and examined her wound. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but it tingled a bit.

She sighed ... and she thought, hairy wolf guys are a thing now, and she couldn't even tell anyone because she knew people would ridicule her.

The best option would be to pretend it never happened.

***