Slavery has never been out of fashion, gangsters in the underground dimension to the supposedly dainty society continuing the trafficking in humans, especially in those of a nature straying from the norm. Fortunately, there is help for these individuals to recover from the inflicted trauma by means of therapy and integration into proper social circles though some require a special sort of care that goes beyond these forms of aid. Alchemically created medicines stemming from ancient herbs and a specific sort of anger management fully focused on inhibition of more than mere raging emotions are simply two of the aspects that apply to the nurturing of these persons.
However, there are a few among the paradoxical good-willed hands who take such a gullible soul under their wing with the promise of improving a miserable life immensely, only to eventually hand them over to mad government scientists researching the historical phenomenon thought to originate in fancy and inherently remain a mere imagination. So the first of researchers in Ancient Greece contemplated the condition of King Lycaon, so the Empirical Revolution and the Enlightening that both brought forth many brilliant minds made mankind think of it as a disease of the mind for that is what it was deemed as.
Since the reveal of a grand werewolf trafficking scandal in the 1960s, the world has become aware of the fact that the creatures they simply disregarded as simple fantasy are very real, were confronted with the inherent detail of a lingering creature within hiding beneath a supposedly civilized nature. Yet, the real beasts remained those who mistreated the individuals suffering from lycanthropy, even going as far as obstructing the aid put in place for them after multiple political debates and protests. Luckily, every endeavour has had an impact grand enough to help shape today’s society, although discrimination shall always be present and the normalization of interracial relationships has yet to be accepted on a grander scale.
Withal, there is no negativity for altered DNA under the roof offered to a blonde wolf who was rescued five months ago after rolling up another band of traffickers, unable to let him go along with the rest of the helpers to the care centre after noticing the strong anxious squeeze in fingers that were rapidly found in unwavering trust when stepping outside of the abandoned container straight towards the authorities put on the case. The situation is not unusual in this line of work since many colleagues have offered shelter to those they helped, but it has never been permanent on most occasions for each went their separate ways after finding a partner or by means of another turn of fate.
Curiously, though, Chan had never shown any signs of belonging to one of the many packs roaming the earth, no animalistic behaviours akin to that of a real wolf nor irises glowing up in a brighter shade deviating from the one of the human persona. Henceforth, there was great internal confusion when a heavy fever preluding the first change befell the platinum locks orphaned at a young age about three months ago, thus forcing a disillusionment of being like the woman who agreed to take a late bloomer under a protective wing at least until full integration would be possible.
A formal service, an honest favour, that is all it was meant to be.
It was supposed to remain friendly.
Love should have stayed outside the door.
Nonetheless, the storm of butterflies came barging in unapologetically, taking on the shape of big hands preparing food out of concern for wellbeing after closely observing how to make certain dishes and helping with chores around the house. Slender fingers always carefully searching out the touch of the ones which saved them because they are fascinated by the obviously smaller size no matter the circumstances. Arms that initiated the first embrace warily despite shoulders shaking with the terror also displayed in pure chocolate eyes thanks reminiscent nightmares of the time spent in captivity as slaves, whispering a faint request to be held before holding on tightly without any intent to let go before the sun loomed on the horizon and hands containing sweet nothings could stop the soothing gliding over a bare muscled back.
Palms which feverishly and sobbingly confessed how scared they were during the first full moon, pleading to not be locked away in the restraining centre designed to keep werewolves under control, of course allowing them to return to civilization come morning, far outside of town. Notwithstanding, they allowed it when shockingly hearing they have the power to instantly and gruesomely kill the saviour turned into the sole true friend. The heavy trembling will never be forgotten, but it could be calmed slightly by grabbing them as foreheads rested against one another in solacing trust, promising to be there when familiar human eyes would open to the dawn.
Assuring Chris he is not a monster.
The many endearing forms of the charming blonde locks braided in at one side or swept back with a bandana when not being given free curly reign would never have been regarded in the way they are had the heart maintained its professionalism.
But how can it when the unexpected housemate creates a life freed, albeit a little, of the burden consisting of memories engraved by the disturbing sights of monstrosities committed against slightly different people?
Even more incredulous is how the chest puffs forward in pride lately, finding a misplaced satisfaction in the possessive grip on the waist in public followed by the grumpy remarks which are badly humorously dismissed when remarking upon the territory gesture.
Just as unjust as the pleased smirk occurring during the recent nights when the growling slamming of the headboard is audible from the adjacent bedroom, aching fingers reaching for the silicone toy of a pretty considerable size used in secret training for a futile cause. Lips rapidly pull into a straight unmoving line to remain hidden from Chan’s heightened hearing during each session fueled by images of being in the other room, still not able to fully take the simulation of a wolf’s satisfaction.
As if the one roaming the shared home would want a human girl for a mate, regardless of having the knowledge about what a rut entails and overflowing willingness to help in a new manner differentiating from the one of the past.
The front door slams shut, interrupting the nostalgic train of thought turned melancholic as the sports bag given as a birthday present is loudly thrown with a ruffling thud in the entryway before muffled curses sound in unison with the bubbling of boiling water for homemade pasta.
Despite unmistakably recognizing the dangerously low grunting that stirs up an unjust storm of wonderful fanciful sensations of belonging to the athletic guy, being the sole one who is desired to be with in spite of the equally rescued she-wolves now also roaming the streets welcoming their new liberated feet, voice is kept in check while uttering a superfluous request for confirmation. ‘Chan, that you?’
All that is given in the way of a response is an acknowledging restricted snarl before socked feet pad to the bathroom, locking the door as the sharp falling sound of water adds to the overall current noise in the apartment. Though it is simply the influence of the mating season talking, many more to come, and the distanced behaviour essentially means nothing, it cannot be said it is not minded if not preferred at times over the bubbly greetings preluding to the incredibly enthusiastically told tale of something new that was discovered on an outing or the hardly hidden concern whenever worrying about wellbeing.
Attention is turned towards making the vegetarian bolognese sauce, something which took a bit of forceful convincing in light of the worsened craving for meat accompanying the turning of a man in a lycanthrope, playfully chasing the housemate out of the kitchen when he not so subtly retrieved meat from the fridge and pushed it very suggestively towards the cutting board where fresh vegetables were being cut. That is, the plastic container pushed the ruby paprika bits harshly towards the edge of the oaken surface as two big sparkling puppy eyes pleaded for the ingredient to be incorporated only to be disappointed by having to return the packaging to where it was retrieved from. Fortunately, the soy alternative formed a pleasant surprise, not minding the use of it at times though still occasionally asking to cook up a non-vegetarian dish.
‘Smells good.’ The comment is murmured against the side of the neck, the surprise resulting in instinctively wanting to turn the head to the side to check the risk factor nullified by teeth biting down hard enough to draw crimson, licking the wound clean and placing a paradoxically chaste kiss on it. ‘Sweet. Tastes even better.’
‘Chan! What the- oh!’
‘Do you fucking know what you do to me? I couldn’t focus on my workout at all thanks to this.’ Fingers deftly hoist up the recently bought skirt with a strap on the left thigh and firmly grab the right buttock as their counterparts wrap around the throat to hypnotizingly close off access to air, pushing up against the spine to make a slowly driven insane helpless prey aware of the prominent hard shape below. ‘I can’t focus on anything, am constantly needy for you for some kind of reason.’
‘I- It’s your rut, Chan. You- You have to mate.’ Appreciating the exerting of control, capturing digits are admiringly traced, surrendering to the captor gladly despite the entirety of circumstances being lead by mere impulse. Inherently, what will ensue shall hold no meaning but regardless, futile as it is, a pleased smirk forms on parted lips. ‘But I see you like the skirt.’
The cheeky grin disappears in an instant at a harsh smack on the behind followed by a warning snarl, fangs once more sinking into skin, hissingly tolerating the branding of the surface that has been bared after roughly pulling aside the onyx spaghetti strap before denying breathing again. ‘I would if it didn’t make me so damn horny. Fuck, how about I mate you? Right here, on the counter? Make you cry, whine like a good bitch?’
‘Wouldn’t you rather like someone else? More than a few girls seem interested in you when we go out.’ Indeed, many a suitable female wolf has shown interest while roaming the city for some fresh air and occasionally doing a bit of shopping.
Notwithstanding, and this is quite odd, the same aggressive behaviour that has been shown often to potential competition has also been directed to better options than the simple human who saved a late-blooming boy. Moreover, the topic of she-wolves is avoided as soon as it comes up in conversation, aversion slipping into demeanour at the slightest suggestion of moving on romantically with someone from a similar background genes-wise. Although, the subtle hint has been disregarded from the first time it was put on the table.
Exactly like the one of finding a pack, buff blonde locks arguing there is no connection to be found there as he is human.
Supposedly is the important missing keyword.
An assumption which was proven to be wrong three months ago when everything changed, mentally and physically.
‘So what? I don’t care for them, hate the way they look at you as if you’re nothing. Besides,’ the pastel blue lace panties bought in the idiotic hope of having a genuine chance with the caring guy who has surrendered to the beast within are ripped away savagely, coaxing out a surprised gasp at the sheer audacity of the action, ‘haven’t you noticed how annoying, how frustrating it is to keep other men from stealing you away from me? Don’t ever doubt you’re mine. My mate. Mine.’
Calloused palms slink from the behind and throat to the thighs, holding on firmly as the bridge of an adorable big nose nudges against shameless wanton craving when knees fall to the floor, nails harmfully digging into the cushiony flesh when the tongue darts out for a rapid lick followed by fast animalistic worship. ‘God, you’re so sweet, babygirl. Ovulating, perfect to be fucked into submission, carry pups.’
Every coherent thought melts away at the wolf’s touch, but, fortunately, the last one has enough sense to turn off the stove before simple-minded moaning fingers entangle in platinum locks. ‘Chri- Chris, we- you shouldn’t-’
A cheeky twist of the tongue diminishes every last sense of humanity, each nerve in shaking limbs driven to an ecstasy craving to go with the flow of the lucid dream turned real. Hence, all that can be managed are chants of the housemate’s name, each pleased rumble adding fuel to the building blaze.
‘Look at you, acting like you’re an actual bitch in heat. Exactly how I want you.’ A firm stinging slap on sensitive tethering desire creates burning tears, wanting to be pushed off the edge instead of sadistically being left hanging. ‘Turn around and spread your fucking legs.’
A secure hold on the middle lifts bare feet into the air, ankles automatically locking behind Chan’s waist after being put down in a tender manner prioritizing the safest and kindest aspects of love, heavily contrasting with the rude threatening tone speaking possessively.
Nevertheless, the kindness instantly fades as protruding stark white canines bite down on the other shoulder, the wound deep enough to draw intoxicating carmine, brandishing the injury as a means of distraction for the direct harshly unrelenting intrusion below. It stirs the paradoxical storm in the guts, the war between pain and pleasure without truly knowing what is right, thus resorting to keeping the beastly lover close in the futile hope of gaining a clear answer from the unrelenting pace driving the chase for oblivion finally onwards again.
‘This is what, ngh, what you’re good for. What that pathetic training is good for.’ The chuckle at the pained whimper thanks to the unexpected size holds a dark gnarling undertone, amused by the desperate attempts at becoming something unreachable though the way to do so also has caused a curious annoyance. ‘Don’t think I haven’t heard you, knotted the pillow while listening to you trying the same with that idiotic silicone thing. Did you even ever succeed?’
‘N- No.’ Chest puffed out and pressed against a sculpted one that is rapidly rising and falling, locks voluntarily fall back in primal delight at being pulled at as another bloody brand is created on the side of the neck. The discovery of enjoying the harmful beastly lovemaking is curious, but every thought gladly surrenders to its rough effects.
Such as the sensually irritated snarling in the ear, palm on the small of the back pulling bodies every closer to make sure the displeasure is heard. ‘I should have thrown it away immediately, knotted you myself to properly make you realize what it’s like to be my mate. Pulled it out and stuffed you with my dick when you’re nice and sore, breed you until you’re leaking and are passed out. That’s how a real wolf fucks, babygirl.’
A contradicting sweet kiss on the cheek streaked with a salty trail at the entirely unexpected reality of what has merely been attempted to be simulated goes paired with a violent forwards thrust, inducing the longed-for ignorant floating. The sole lifeline is the untainted adorable giggle held dear by trembling limbs, every sense filled with the freshly showered scent of musk and black pepper laced with a deeper tone of linen.
But even innocence eventually grows corrupted, a nice sound transforming into a low sinful whisper. ‘Did I say you could cum?’
‘I- I couldn’t-’ A panicked shiver makes goosebumps arise, silently profusely apologizing to piercing eyes glossed over with lustful discontentment.
‘No matter, because,’ Chan contrastingly innocently nudges the nose, the huskily spoken words by laboured breath immediately re-igniting the forbidden warmth below, ‘I’m going to fuck this wet slick pussy loose before forcing my knot in. You will take it, whether you want to or not. Whether you can or not.’
The awkward squirming pleading for being lead further down the road of what was thought never to be creates a devilish smile showing canines as sharp as daggers, nails digging hard enough in the skin of soft thighs to create crimson lightly bleeding scars. The pained yet wanton restrained whimper is swallowed by spurred on plush lips, urging to keep to promise in their contact, as the throat is constricted by breathtaking squeezing slender digits that have picked up the merciless pace again. ‘Shit, look at you, acting like a deprived bitch, enjoying getting fucked by a beast, have an animal pump cum into you. God, you’re perfect.’
Perverse and immoral as it is, the crude degradations force another violent release with a loud sigh contained the half scream of the offender’s name, howbeit in a lesser degree than the former. Regardless, it adds to the wish to persevere, proud to have won preference over all the she-wolves continuously waging a chance on the wolf belonging under this roof.
At my side.
Just as I belong at his.
In our home.
The delirium grows when the big nose kissed many times in kind affection nuzzles the throat, more branding plum and carmine marks dotting the spots where satisfied teeth graze over. In the meanwhile, fluidly snapping hips accentuate every wonderfully possessive statement. ‘Good girl. Mine, ngh, ah, that’s my girl. Spreading her legs for me, only me. Mine to fuck, mine to care for, mine to knot, mine to want.’
With effort, platinum locks are lead away from the neck to see the genuineness lying in their gaze, wanting to see the honesty of the phrases though they likely hold no meaning once the primal craze fades and shall only rise during the next season. ‘You- You re- really want me?’
The confinement of difficult breath enhancing all the other senses is removed, a ruined face lovingly enveloped with a softened gaze as pure humanity surfaces from beneath the animalistic frenzy.
As the boy rescued from the container shared with at least ten other werewolves awakens. ‘You still don’t get it, do you? Why do you think I constantly want to be with you, miss you when you’re out for work and do my best to be a human man, a boyfriend for you? On a rut or not, I want you. You’re mine, always have been.’
Perhaps it is because of the overstimulation sending every sense of bodily logic astray, but the attempt to smile in answer to the confession instead turns into barely contained sobs as the heart beats fast in glowing elation. Fortunately, the lingering tender kiss between sweat-slicked chests, Chris’s thumb soothingly caressing the cheek, makes the ability to talk coherently return to the degree of being able to speak simple hopeful short sentences. ‘Mate me.’
‘You’re sure? It will be, fuck~ taking me so well.’ A moment of lewd watching is taken to briefly get fully lost in the sinful air scented with a mixture of perspiration and perfume and vocally coloured by grunts and weak mewls, making the previous shower a wasted effort.
‘It will be painful, babygirl, and a life-’ a hand travels lower to grab the waist to diminish the impact of the rapid curt advances that elongate to long deep strokes, reaching a new depth at a slower pace that sends both minds further into sensitive primal madness that barely leaves room for civilization, ‘lifelong commitment. At least for me.’
Beneath the grunted explanation of the inherent meaning of becoming more than human lovers lies a hint of hesitance, an expectation to be denied at the mention of this change binding a werewolf and human being permanent.
Bound to a beast.
Faithful to the sweet buff platinum-haired guy living under the same roof.
The boy that has made coming home pleasant again.
Who has filled the silence in the empty apartment.
Has made it our home.
‘For me, too.’ The speed of wanton hips accelerates again, entranced and spurred on by the honesty of the words that have wanted nothing else but remain at the wolf’s side since the moment fingers first entwined in trust. ‘I’m no- not going anywhere, Chan. I- I’m with you. Mate me.’ Nails rake over a chiselled cheek, coaxing out a beastly purring when scratching underneath the jaw, begging for the official binding mark. ‘It’s alright, I want it. Mate me.’
Instead of responding with words, a palm envelops the back of the neck to force a shift of focus to below where bodies frantically continuously meet.
‘Do you see that, hm? That knot?’ A quick nod is all that can be mustered at seeing the swelling that is bigger than its silicone simulation, expectations nuanced by reality yet still feeling the same eagerness to take it. To be the proper mistress of the overpowering domestic supernatural force. ‘I’m going to force this into your fucking loose pussy. You’ll look so beautiful, a wolf cock inside and crying at being filled up with animal cum, begging me to pull out. So sensitive, so wonderfully overstimulated, feeling everything.’
‘Ch- Chan, I- I won’t be, please, plea- please, slo- slow down, ah. I ca- can’t t- take it.’ The amount of unintended releases into pure bliss has not been kept track of, but a sliver of sanity remains this time to make a whimpering plead.
Which is cut off by the renewed breathtaking grip on the throat by forceful digits, enhancing every sense thanks to the lack of oxygen. ‘As I said, you will and I don’t fucking care whether you actually can or not.’
‘A- At least use lu- lu- ah!’ At a final powerful stroke, the sensual gratification that could only be taken halfway before inescapably creates a new sense of fulfilling while being held as close as possible by tensed muscles. Eyes roll back at the distracting sensation of dagger-like fangs sinking into the side of the elaborately marked carmine and plum neck, mind overflowing with the rampant thoughts of beings bound in harmonious unison.
Once a wolf mates another wolf or a human, their souls momentarily fully fuse into one so that reality is experienced by both as of being a sole individual. Senses heighten due to overloaded nerves, incapable of dealing with the emotions of two persons at once, hence increasing the sensation of everything.
Though the temporary extreme sensitivity fades as a tongue laps up the blood, carefully nibbling on the broken skin to ensure it heals well as humming calloused palms lovingly rub over the upper arms. In the meanwhile, though, nails dig into broad shoulders to failingly repress the heavy shivering sobs due to the foreign burningly stretching pain. ‘Chan... it hurts...’
A growling possessive grip reoccurs at the mewled barely contained heaves, strangely encouraging the continuous determination to see this through. Yet, the shock at the wildness that was thought to have died down instills an unnecessary fearful shock. ‘Take it, every last drop. You’re going to carry my pups, become their mother. I’ll breed you over and over, whenever I want. Wherever I want. And you will spread your legs and be fucked into submission every damn time.’
Nevertheless, the squirming in discomfort cannot be toned down, trying to find a way to make the aftermath of the rough love easier on the exhausted body endeavouring to hold on as best as possible while also dismissing the fear rushing through the veins.
‘Y/N?’ The notice of the absent beast in the voice of a well-trained quickly rising and falling chest halts the awkward futile shuffling, instead shifting focus on the soothing innocent kiss on the cheek and the plush lips searching for another pair against which they can whisper praise. ‘You’re doing great, babygirl. I’m so proud of you.’
Make contact with as they perfectly fit in a chastely sweet kiss, thumbs caressing cheeks streaked with salty brooks. ‘Breath, baby, breath. There you go. Good girl, exactly like that.’
A quicksilver smile rapidly emphasizes the illuminating happiness on Chris’s delighted expression, deeply satisfied with this new level of our relationship. ‘I’m really proud of you. And, I, ah, do- don’t squeeze, I’m sensitive as well at the... the mo- mo... ment.’
A renewed primal trance is induced by the sight of unclear alabaster dripping onto the ground, kept alive by keeping apart thighs that shyly try to close. ‘Fuck, you look so sexy like this.’
Platinum locks perk up at the unconscious notion of drifting off again while actually attempting to remain unaffected by the wild creature beneath the skin, an embarrassed huff bringing back the well-known inherently truly known housemate. ‘Ri- Right. I, uhm, what I wanted to say was,’ foreheads come to rest against each other, hands falling away from the cheeks to affectionately glide as light as a feather over upper arms, ‘I love you.’
Instead of answering the confession of pent-up emotions vocally thanks to not fully trusting the capability to speak steadily as of yet, breathing still a tad ragged due to the first time mating experience, arms wrap around Chan’s middle in a hug that does not want to be made undone. An agreeing contented hum naturally occurs at hearing the giggle beneath the pleased rumble of a calming heart.
The gesture is answered by strong almost crushing arms knowing the feelings are reciprocated. The big nose often coyly kissed nuzzles the still rigid mark, fingers combing hair to pull attention away from the slight pain accompanying the good-natured motion as warm breath rolls over the sensitive brand. ‘I’ll be hard to handle, but I’ll try to restrain myself and still take care of you. After all, you’re officially my mate now. My girlfriend. And I don’t want you to suffer the consequences of this endless craving.’
‘It’s not suffering, Chris. It’s the duty of a mate, of course of her own volition, to help her alpha deal with his rut. It’s fine, I can deal with it.’ It will take a considerable physical toll, but the exhaustion will gladly be endured. The overall harshness, though, has a hard to resist allure that will be more than tolerated.
It shall be loved.
It already is.
Because I love him.
A tuneful satisfied peck on the mark is followed up by a playful one on the bridge of the nose and by a lingering kiss on the lips, filled with hesitant concern that filters through in chocolate eyes. ‘You say that now, but I want you to be healthy. You need to sleep, eat, go to work, go out for a walk or groceries. I don’t want to confine you because of the beast within, because I’m an animal and you’d have to adjust to me. I don’t want that for us, for you.
‘Regardless of this, I still want to be human, will always try to be. And for that, I need normalcy. So, please, can you do that for me? Let me take care of you, but also take care of yourself.’
‘I promise.’ Teeth bite down on the bottom lip, hardly able to suppress a fairly normal question for a werewolf rescue worker yet somehow still carrying a hint of uncertain first times. ‘Ehm, Chris? How long can you hold out until you... you know, have to breed again?’
‘After this?’ A bubbly chuckle clearly enjoys the rosy flush undeniably on a heated face though dark sensuality creeps back into demeanour, taking a good second to survey the ruined sight on the countertop and a low purring emphasizing the satisfaction it brings. ‘Maybe three hours if I really push myself, but two and a half at least. However, I can’t promise anything when you wear that skirt.’
‘Maybe I want to keep wearing the skirt?’
‘I don’t think you do. Besides,’ a cheeky peck elongates into a deep lowly unintelligibly murmuring lingering one whereby palms once again frame the face to keep it close, re-experiencing the breathtaking hardening of skin below, ‘you wouldn’t be able to show it off since you won’t be able to walk.’
‘Is that so?’ That same quick smile from before flashes past on full lips, amused but also pleasantly caring, at sensing the renewed heat which secretly already wants to be acted upon despite the aftermath of what has just transpired.
‘Not so eager, babygirl.’ Another long kiss distracts from the discomfort of bodies losing their physical connection, swallowing the whimper at the hollowness and lewd sound of liquid splattering on the ground. ‘I love you acting like a bitch in heat, but let’s first take a shower, clean up the mess and eat something. Afterwards, we’ll see how we’re doing.’
‘You mean whether we can already have a round two.’
Chan easily picks up sore thighs from the counter, arms wrapping around the neck as they are carried to the bathroom, coyly faking a thoughtful attitude. ‘Maybe.’
‘We’ll definitely have a round two.’