April 23, 2010
RED RIDING HOOD 2010
Having come of age well before the time when it became socially acceptable to lie with beasts, it was quite surprising that Grandma had taken The Wolf as her lover. Nonetheless she found herself seduced by his good looks and dark nature. Fiercely masculine and irrepressibly dangerous, he got the juices of her youth flowing in a way her late husband had been unable during the last decades of his mostly impotent life. “Take me to the edge”, she’d tell him as she ascended the heights of ecstasy. And he would – his nails slicing four crimson ribbons into her belly before his paws squeezed shut her windpipe and she began to convulse in pleasure, reaching the peak of excitement just before blacking-out.
Though their love affair had been going on for quite some time, Grandma had yet to introduce The Wolf to friends or family. That was until today. Her granddaughter Red Riding Hood was coming to visit and she felt it important for the girl to meet him. Grandma worried, you see, as grandmas do. Red did not seem to be developing socially like the other girls her age, all of whom had boyfriends and some of whom were even mothers by now. Not Little Red Riding Hood though. She was still a virgin. This of course concerned Grandma greatly. Things were different now than when she grew up. Old fashioned girls were precisely that – old fashioned, destined to become lonely spinsters never having enjoyed the affections of a man. These days, a girl simply could not afford to be prudish. Boys had high expectations and if a girl like Red Riding Hood wanted to be popular, she needed to give it up. What’s more, if she wanted to keep a man she needed to throw those inhibitions away and be willing to get down and dirty. If she would not, then there were plenty of other girls out there who would. Grandma thought The Wolf perfect to bring about her erotic awakening and liberate her from the bondage of her outdated morality. He gladly obliged, agreeing to train Red Riding Hood in the delicate art of pleasing a man.
As they awaited her arrival, The Wolf started to become rather amorous with Grandma. It began with some light caressing and tender kisses. She tried to ward him off telling him “Stop it! Red Riding Hood will be here soon” but when he breathed onto her neck, she just melted into his touch. He eased her on to the bed and they began to make love as they so often did. It was faster and more intense than usual, as they knew her granddaughter would soon arrive. The Wolf had worked himself up into quite a frenzy leaving scratches over much of her abdomen and bite marks on her neck, shoulders, and bosom. “I’m so close,” he told Grandma.
“Do it!” she cried, “take me to the edge!”
In that moment of extreme passion, he grabbed a fist full of hair and tore her head clear from her neck as he growled and discharged inside of her. “Oh potato sticks!” he exclaimed when he realized what he had done. Just as he started to catch his breath and his protrusion began to subside, there was a knock on the door. “Just a minute deary,” he called out in his best old lady voice. He then did the only thing of which he could think - he quickly ate Grandma’s head and carcass then fetched a bedgown from the closet, sprayed himself with her perfume, put on her nightcap, and positioned himself in the bed. He took the reading glasses from the nightstand and parked them on the bridge of his nose for added authenticity. “Come in Red Riding Hood,” he called out.
“Grandma, is that you?” the girl called out.
“Yes dear, it is I, your grandmother.”
Red Riding Hood entered the room. “Your voice sounds so different Grandma.”
“Oh I’m afraid I caught myself a death of a cold.”
“I’m sorry Grandma. I wish I had known. I could have brought you some of Mother’s chicken soup.”
“Oh don’t you worry dear, your grandmother will be just fine.” Looking at what she was wearing he asked, “Why ever are you wearing that dreadful red hood child?”
“I always wear my riding hood Grandma. It reminds me of my name.”
“That’s just silly! A girl your age shouldn’t be covering up so much. Look at how long that dress is. How will boys ever know how pretty you are?”
“Mommy says I’m too young to be worried about boys at my age.”
“Balderdash! A girl like you should have lots of boyfriends.”
“Well just one would be nice.”
“Oh? Is there a particular boy at school you like?”
“Well . . . kind of.”
“What’s his name dear?”
“Tommy. Tommy Nickols. But he likes Susie Chapman. He hardly even knows I’m alive.”
“Well then it’s up to you to let him know.”
“But I wouldn’t even know how Grandma.”
“Come sit on the bed with me,” The Wolf said and she did. He gently massaged her neck, shoulders, and back telling her, “Sweet, sweet child” as he did.
“What are you doing Grandma?”she asked. He hushed her then removed the riding hood revealing the golden locks beneath.
“Such beautiful hair,” he said, running his fingers through it. He noticed goose bumps and she began to feel a tingly sensation on her scalp and the back of her neck.
“Grandma,” she said in a soft voice.
“Just relax child,” The Wolf whispered to her. He kissed her ear and she closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan. She felt like she should have the urge to resist but no such urge existed. Finding herself touched in ways she had never been touched and feeling feelings she had never before felt, she was helpless to do anything but submit to these strange and wonderful sensations.
Opening her eyes and looking into those of her surrogate grandmother, she said “Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you with my beautiful child.”
She reached over to stoke The Wolf’s face. Running her hands over his ears she said, “Grandma, what big ears you have”.
“The better to hear you with my child.”
Looking down and seeing the protuberance under the sheet, she said “Grandma, what a big bulge you have.”
“The better to love you with my dear.”
“Love me with Grandma?” Red Riding Hood said.
“Yes,” said the Wolf. He moved the sheet away.
Unable to resist the temptation before her, they were soon engaged in a most sensuous act of bestiality. Such a skilled lover was The Wolf that she hardly felt any pain when he entered her. The obtrusive barrier seemed to have just melted away leaving only the secretions of desire in its wake. She called the name of her Maker over and over as he plunged the depths of her pleasure. After bringing her through her third coital apogee, he was still inside, gently thrusting. Looking into his eyes she said, “You’re not my grandmother, are you?”
“No my dear.”
“She’s in a better place now my child.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we get old,” The Wolf explained, “our bodies ache, our souls grow tired, and our spirit begins to sicken.”
“Grandma got sick, like Grandpa did?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said and Little Red Riding Hood began to cry. The Wolf comforted her. “No child, weep not for your grandmother. She’s in place where there’s no more pain or sickness or sadness.”
“But she’s dead! She’s dead!” Red Riding Hood sobbed.
“No my dear, your grandmother lives, lives in that one moment forever.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Remember how you felt just a few minutes ago? The way your whole body quivered in divine joy?”
“I’ve never felt anything like that before. It was just so, so . . . amazing.”
“That’s where you’re grandmother is – in that amazing feeling. Forever and ever.”
“Grandma feels like that forever?”
“I wish I could feel like that forever. Most of the time though, I’m just so sad.”
Red Riding Hood opened up to The Wolf, telling him about Mother’s restrictive ways and lack of understanding and about how she was teased and bullied at school. She even revealed that she would sometimes injure herself as a distraction from the constant pain she felt inside.
“You poor child,” said The Wolf.
“Please, make it all go away. I want to be where Grandma is.”
The Wolf tried to convince her otherwise but Red Riding Hood was persistent. When he was certain she knew the implications of her decision and that it was irreversible, he asked one more time. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, “take me over the edge!”
With that, he began to thrust more forcefully. She sighed and moaned and moaned and sighed, her respiration becoming more rapid. Teetering on the brink, she cried out for him to take her. He threw his head back and howled. She screamed in ecstasy and death as his teeth ripped into her throat. Blood splashed over both their faces. She wheezed and coughed and twitched for a bit then was still.
It was a premature yet wonderful conclusion to Little Red Riding Hood. No more sorrow. No more pain. No more social awkwardness. No more parental tyranny. Above all, there was no more worrying about all those things that concerned a girl like her – the blemish that always seemed to appear at the wrong time, the boys who would not ask her to dance, hormones, mood swings, obsession with weight. Yes, Little Red Riding Hood had died but in doing so she lived as never before – in that one moment of bliss, always and forever, happily ever after.
The Wolf came.