Blind Passion

Blind Passion

A Wolfman Tale

Brannan Black

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Brannan Black

ISBN: 978-1-60521-613-3

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Changeling Press LLC

PO Box 1046

Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Margaret Riley

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Blind Passion

A Wolfman Tale

Brannan Black

The world fell apart after a virus killed billions and turned most male survivors into
violent wolfmen. Five of us, my family, found refuge in an abandoned bomb shelter.

Over the last three years I’ve lost them all. Now I’m trapped here. Alone.

Food stores running low, I resolved I would not die down here in the stark silence of
my burrow. I know there are dangers outside: wild animals, fatal injuries, and worst
of all, the beasts that had once been men. Wild, feral creatures infected with a virus
that turns normal men into half animal beasts.

But I need to feel the sun on my face, hear the whispers of the wind as it caresses my
skin. To smell the earth, the flowers, the freshness after it rains. To know life goes on
outside my isolated tomb. It’s worth the risk of a horrid death for even one hour of
such ecstasy.

I never imagined coming face to face with two young beasts. They want my burrow --

and me. And they aren’t planning to take no for an answer. It would seem my
loneliness has ended. At least until they realize what a burden I will be. In a world
where only the strongest survive, I’m excess baggage. Unless I can convince them
otherwise.

A warm body slides along my own. Hot, hard, smelling of male musk. Want rises from
deep inside my belly. My hands rove over hard plains of muscle covering his chest. In a light
dusting of hair, I find what I’ve been seeking, his flat man nipples. A brush across them, and he
gasps and arches into my hand. I tease circles around and over them with my fingertips, harder
as he pushes into my hand.

He cups my breasts, teasing my nipples hard. He slides down my body; trailing hot, wet
kisses from my throat to my breast. I gasp at the intense pleasure his lips send zinging from my
breast. He suckles me harder. Our bodies thrust and writhe against each other.

Heat pools in my pussy. It aches for the release only he can give. I spread my legs,
bending at the knee so I can thrust up against his hard body, rubbing, thrusting, grinding my
clit on him. Warm, wet cream slicks my passage. Passion pools between my thighs, hot,
demanding, ready.

He slides up my body, the broad head of his cock teasing the sensitive lips of my pussy.

More heat rises until a fire of desire consumes me. I grasp his hips, urging him deep. A single
thrust, and I gasp, rising to meet
…

Nothing. I woke from yet another passion-filled dream. My pussy ached with desire. My heart bled from the emptiness that my life had become. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I curled around my pillow sobbing.

How long? How long have I been down here in the achingly lonely safety of my borrow
?

Years, I think, at least three, since the world collapsed in the wake of a terrible virus that transformed good men into monsters. Years since my family sought refuge in this old fallout shelter that had later served as a hidden pot farm. My father, mother, brother and sister Jian were here in the beginning. Together we converted the shelter into a living space independent of the outside world. Almost independent. The virus
Brannan Black

Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale

6

still found us. It killed our father. Our brother? Gone without a trace. Our mother was torn to pieces in our old house tending both of them. We’d prayed it hadn’t been our own brother, maddened by the virus, who killed her. In the end, it left Jian and I alone, locked in the sheltered safety of our burrow.

Now Jian was gone. How long? I had no way of really knowing. She’d made me promise to stay locked inside until she returned. Without benefit of sun’s rising and setting, I could only guess. Three months, give or take. Three months of no one to talk to. No sound but my own breathing and heartbeat. The shelter was so far underground no noise from above reached us. No breath of a breeze caressed my skin or carried fresh smells. Nothing but stale air and silence.

Spent and empty as the last of my tears soaked into my lonely pillow, I decided it was time. My food stores were running low, and I resolved I would not die down here in the stark silence. I wanted to feel the sun on my face and the wind caressing my skin like the lover I longed for. I stifled a mad laugh, afraid once I started I’d never stop.

It was dangerous out there. Beasts that had once been men roamed the streets, attacking anyone or anything they found. Wild animals and starving packs of abandoned dogs hunted whatever was left. Even a simple accident could mean death without medical help. I knew this. Jian had known this before she braved the hazards made worse by winter weather, but we couldn’t wait to restock our fuel stores. Without the generator, we had no electricity for the heater fans or lights. Our lamp oil stocks were nearly gone, too. We’d hoped she could replenish our food stores and maybe even hunt some fresh meat.

Alone, I’d made it through the winter with extra blankets and thick clothing. I’d had no choice.

I stood still, holding my breath at the top of the stairs, ear pressed to the door.

Silence, always silence. I cracked it open, and faint sounds flowed in. The soft sigh of a breeze rustling something against the side of the shed. The pot grower had built a workshop and storage shed over the bunker to hide his illegal activities.

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Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale

7

I sat for a long time just listening to the breeze. The air in the shed smelled damp and had just enough chill to suggest it was still spring. Or maybe it had just rained. I didn’t really care right then. It felt so good after the stillness of my burrow. Propping open the hidden door that formed the back wall of the shed, I let the fresh air mix with the stale below. Danger or not, I would not close either of them and seal myself back inside what felt more like a tomb every day. Maybe tomorrow I would find the courage, or desperation, to venture beyond the shed.

* * *

Cautiously I pushed the door to the shed open. It’d taken me two days to work up the courage. I listened hard and heard only birds and a soft breeze through the grass. The loudest noise came from the pounding of my heart. I slipped to the side of the door and slid down the wall, basking in the warmth of the day. Sun from straight overhead meant midday. I’d thought it was morning.

I sat there, soaking up the sun until I worried I might burn. And all that time, I heard nothing but the gentle sounds of nature, birds singing all around, squirrels chattering, the wind sighing gently past, even the faint chirps of frogs somewhere in the distance. I smelled only damp, sun-warmed earth, grass and spring flowers. None of it suggested humanity had ever existed.

Stark loneliness flooded my heart and soul. I fled back inside, suddenly afraid to know if I was indeed the last human on the planet.

Two days later, the smell of rain sank into my sleep. Leaping up the stairs, I tripped and barely saved myself from a bad fall. Careful, I had to be careful because there was no one to help me if I got hurt. A deep chasm of despair opened in the pit of my gut. Was it worth it? Just surviving?

Rain tapped on the roof of the shed. I opened the door and let the fresh, cold air of the storm wash over me. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I shivered with a chill, all the while reveling in the sensations. The rain on the roof and splashing on the ground made a symphony for my starved ears.

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Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale

8

I sat just inside the door until it ended. The world smelled so fresh and new after a storm passed. Birds sang in celebration of life. Or at least that’s how it felt to me. I could hold on a while longer. Today I would hold on to hope.

It’d been a week since I’d started venturing out of my burrow, slipping along the side of the building, checking out what I could around it. A lot of weeds, but some flowers grew in the bright Colorado sun, too. I pulled some of the weeds in hopes that more flowers would grow. It lifted some of the dark depression from my soul, just being in the sun again.

Mostly, I heard only birds, squirrels and the wind. Occasionally something would rustle somewhere near, and I would scamper like a frightened bunny back into my burrow. Around the far side of the shed, I’d found a nice spot of shade to sit and enjoy the air, dreaming of days gone by or a future where my sister Jian returned.

Maybe she’d found a refugee camp that would take us. Or others who would come here to live.

Sometimes, far more often than I dared admit, I would imagine a man coming to save me like some prince in a fairy tale. Knowing I was alone, I played out these fantasies wherever I was. After all, who would see me lying naked in the grass with my fingers in my lonely pussy? Surly if anyone, even beasts, were around they’d have come for me by now.

A snap of sound pulled me from my dozing. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and I jerked up, fully alert. I heard a sound, a rustling in the grass, too constant to be the wind, from around the left side of the shed. The breeze carried a musky odor unlike any animal I knew.

Every time I went out I took the rifle Jian had left me. Not that I could hit a damned thing with it, but maybe it would make whatever was out there pause long enough for me to get back inside. I threw the bolt, chambering a round.

“I’ll shoot if you don’t back off!” I put all the confidence I could muster into my vain warning.

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Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale

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A deep, growling voice chuckled from far too close. “I should warn you that getting shot pisses me off.” His voice sounded almost normal, almost human.
Almost
.

Which meant a beast had found me. He’d stopped moving. I could hear his breath now, just around the corner.

I backed away toward the other corner, ready to make a dash for the door. Over the pounding of my heart I heard the grass rustle. I threw the gun at him, whirled and ran. Straight into a hard wall that shouldn’t have been there.