Trapped!

TRAPPED! Angela Wanderlust was trapped, in a tiny cage. In the middle of the woods. Completely bare. She tried to cover her tiny breasts with her long red hair, hair that fell like a crimson waterfall all of the way down to her plump posterior. It was late in the fall, near dark, and the temperatures were rapidly falling. But that wasn’t why Angela was trembling.

   The terrified redhead was watching the woman who had captured her, Wanda The Werewolf Hunter, twist the end of her rope into a NOOSE! The leather clad werewolf hunter then flung that noose high over a nearby tree branch, where it caught, allowing the noose to fall back down to the ground. Angela watched her, her green eyes wide with fright, as the woman with the raven black hair walked slowly towards her.

    Holding the noose up high, she spoke to the fear struck redhead, “Angela Wanderlust, I accuse thee of being a creature most foul, an emissary of The Devil himself, a WEREWOLF. These fine folks hired me.” Wanda said as she gestured to the villagers surrounding Angela, their rifles aimed at her. “To find the werewolf that has been terrorizing their village. A werewolf that started to prowl these woods, the same time you arrived here. Last night Farmer Vincent heard something in his chicken coop. This morning, I followed tracks that led from his farm to your very door, where I found you asleep in your bed, naked, with mud on your feet and blood on your hands. That is why we brought you here, to await the rising of the full moon. IF you are a werewolf, we’ll soon know. If you are…” Wanda swung the noose back and forth menacingly, “If not, we’ll set thee free, with our deepest apologies.”

     Just then the full moon began to rise, like a golden eye floating in a sea of velvet. Silvery hair began to cover Angela’s body, a full bushy tail sprang forth from her lower back, her teeth grew into sharp ivory spikes, her green eyes changed to yellow, and seemed to glow in the rapidly approaching darkness. She growled furiously, shaking the bars of her cell.

    “Ah, there you are, you wicked beast. Listen to me carefully. These villagers are all armed with silver bullets. I want you to face away from me, when I enter your cage, with your hands, or paws, by your sides. Do not move, if you do, these men will cut you down.”

   Angela knew she had no choice, she was trapped with no way out. She turned around, hairy arms by her sides, and heard the cage door swing open. And Wanda’s footsteps as she approached with her noose.

   Angela stood on shaking legs, expecting the noose to slide around her neck at any second, and was shocked when Wanda grabbed hold of her tail instead. Clamping the noose tightly around the base of her furry tail, where it connected to her lower back, she waved to the men who were holding onto the other end of the rope, “HAUL AWAY, MEN!” Wanda shouted, and Angela flew out of the cage, to dangle beneath the tree branch, slowly swinging back and forth, her hands and feet inches above the ground, her bottom risen high in the air. 

     Wanda walked over to the hanging wolf-girl, a wicked smile on her pretty face. “Angela, we know you are cursed. You can not help what you are. Therefore,  we wish you no long suffering harm, or to mortally wound you. But we must teach you a lesson. So, you’ll never return to these woods again.” Wanda said as she removed a bundle of switches from the quiver she wore on her back. “With these, switches soaked in Holy Water.”
   The first stroke of the birch crashed like thunder across Angela’s backside, rising a slew of angry red welts clearly visible through the fine fur covering Angela’s burning bottom. Stroke after stroke followed, accompanied by the cheers of the villagers and Angela’s howls, until the wolf-girl’s boiling bottom and half way down the back of her legs, glowed like red hot coals in the darkness.

      Wanda wiped her brow, and returned the birch to her quiver. She gently caressed Angela’s ruby red rear, her fingers slowly sliding across the sea of welts she had been painted there. “There, there, you naughty beast, we’ll let thee go free in a minute. But first, Farmer Vincent wants to give you one last parting… shot, to send you on your way.” 

    BLAM! A rifle roared. Angela expected to feel a silver bullet crashing into her brain, but instead, felt a  million tiny balls of fire singe her already scorching hindquarters. She quickly realized instead of a silver bullet she had been blasted with a load of ROCK SALT!

   Wanda shouted, “RELEASE THE BEAST!” and the men released the rope holding her captive. The second Angela’s feet touched the ground, she ran howling off into the night, listening to the laughter of the villagers and the wicked werewolf hunter. 

     Smiling triumphantly, Wanda shook Farmer Vincent’s hand, “A fine shot, my friend. I doubt if that unholy beast will ever return to these parts.” 

   “Thank you, Wanda, that was a fine plan. I’m just glad that filthy beast was stupid enough to believe we were all armed with silver bullets. Why would poor farmers like us have such riches?”

    Wanda and the band of jolly men returned to the village, laughing all the way.