
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8052226.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi, Other
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek/Stiles, Derek/Bear, Stiles/Bear, Derek/Stiles/Bear, Peter/Stiles,
      Derek/Peter/Stiles, Stiles/Original_canine_characters, Derek_&_Deaton,
      Derek_&_Peter, Derek/Bear/Ruby(OMC)
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinsk, Derek_Hale, Alan_Deaton, Peter_Hale, Deucalion, Orginal
      Canine_Characters, Ennis_(brief), Rosie_(Scott)_Brief
  Additional Tags:
      Contemporary_AU, Dark_Erotic_Chiller, non_Canon, OOC, Unnbeta'd._FINISHED
      in_draft, Posted_frequently, Irregular_Chapter_Lengths, STEREK_(but_NOT_a
      romance, friendship_or_love_story), Dark, Dark_Characters_except_Stiles,
      Alpha/_Dom/_Top/_Derek, Alpha_/Top/_Peter, Alpha/Top/Deucalion, Human
      Deaton, Human/Sub/_Bottom/Stiles_Rape/Non-con, BDSM_elements, Extreme
      Puppy_'Play', Pet, Kink, Graphic_Surgical_Procedures_(real_and_fantasy),
      Non-Con_Feminization, Humiliation, Dehumanization, Stockholm_Syndrome,
      Kidnapping, Metal/Physical/_Emotional_Manipulation, Non-con_Body
      Modification, Neovagina, Non-con_Drug_Use, Perversion, M/M_/Rough_/
      Explicit/_Sex, Double_Anal_Penetration, Double_Penetration_(ass_&_cunt),
      Sexual_/Vulgar_language, Castration_(graphic), Gender_Realignment_
      (graphic_)_Underage_(14), BESTIALITY_(graphic), Cultural_Bestiality, De
      vocalization, Some_Violence_and_Punishment, Some_A/B/O_Dynamics, Electro
      Shock_Collar, Knotting
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-16 Updated: 2016-11-25 Chapters: 6/? Words: 34414
****** A True Artist ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     In a world where supernatural creatures are known to a few human
     sympathizers and hunters the population at large is oblivious to the
     numbers and positions of power of werewolves. Derek Hale is an Alpha
     living on the outskirts of a large, wealthy werewolf community. A
     lone wolf who chooses to live without need, benefit or hindrance of a
     pack,but he is not without family . His uncle Peter Hale, also an
     Alpha and a younger sister Cora, a Beta whose absence he has come to
     appreciate.. After 29 years Derek has found his niche in life , a
     rare and appreciated talent for making 'Bitches' out of young male
     humans. Sex slaves and 'pets' for wealthy, horny Alphas who enjoy
     fucking them whenever and however they please. Derek's talent has
     made him rich and a earned him many accolades and admirers as 'A True
     Artist.' What will he make of one Stiles Stilinski?
     READ THE TAGS!
     DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're
     not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author
     or other readers. I've tagged generally what I can, chapters will
     specify the kink/perversion included so that they can be read or
     avoided.
Notes
     READ THE TAGS!
     They are for readers benefit and if there's anything you don't like
     DON'T READ. This is FICTION/FANTASY.
     I DO NOT CONDONE ANY FORM OF RL ABUSE, SEXUAL OR OTHERWISE TO ANY
     HUMAN OR ANIMAL, PERIOD.
     DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're
     not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author
     or other readers. I've tagged generally what I can, chapters will
     specify the kink/perversion included so that they can be read or
     avoided.
     Completed in draft, chapters edited prior to posting and posted when
     ready. There are two endings, one STEREK one not, I don't know which
     I'll use depending on readers reactions. Don't look for redeeming
     features in Derek, there aren't any.
***** The Comission *****
                [https://s20.postimg.org/5zc2vqlml/banner.jpg]
Derek Hale leaned back in the executive black, leather chair behind his oak
desk in his home office, steepled his fingers and scrutinized the Alpha whose
was presently standing with his back to him, hands clasped in the small of his
back scanning the photos on his walls. Deucalion's presence seemed to fill the
entire space, which was odd because the Alpha wasn't a physically large
werewolf, but he was an impressive one. Deucalion stood about five feet ten,
with short, dark blond hair and a lean, athletic physique at present hidden
inside a dark suit and white shirt. Dark, mirrored sunglasses gave him the air
of Mafia upper echelons rather than urbane sophistication and exuded as much
danger. He spoke in a clipped British accent without turning.
"These are photos of all the bitches you've created?"
"Mostly, over the last five or six years, yes." Derek confirmed, leaning
forward slightly.
The Alphas head moved minutely indicating he was listening.
"There appears to be a great deal of variety."
"I pride myself on producing a product to suit every pocket and taste." Derek
answered evenly narrowing his intriguing green eyes on the Alpha's back, if
Deucalion was attempting to intimidate him, it wasn't going to work.
Deucalion gave brief reply. "Quite." And pivoted on his heels toward the desk,
slipping off his sunglasses , folding them and sliding into the breast pocket
of his jacket . His eyes were a chill, ice blue and settled on Derek's face,
intense and assessing.
Derek's lips twitched. "Take a seat Alpha Deucalion," he gestured toward the
high backed, green leather chair set at the other side of his desk, "and tell
me precisely what I can do for you." Derek put his elbows one on each arm of
his chair and allowed his hands to flop over the side in a move of casual
indifference.
Deucalion stepped toward the desk and dropped gracefully into the chair with a
tight smile and crossed his legs at the knee. He took a few moments to pluck
and brush away an imaginary piece of lint , before draping his arms along the
broad arms of the chair.
Derek waited patiently.
The two Alpha couldn't be more different, Deucalion's compact and sinewy form
forced into the confines of a suit and Derek's broad shoulders and muscled
chest straining the fabric of a grey wife beater and showcasing satin tanned
skin, powerful biceps and roped, dark haired forearms ending in large hands
with long, broad fingers, strong and uncompromising. Facially they were
different too, Deucalion older, handsome, with refined, sharp features and a
hidden cruelty in his cold Nordic blue eyes. Derek younger, with masculine ,
elegant, satanic dark good looks, thick brows, blade nose and square jaw
shadowed with thick, black stubble and the most compelling pale, smokey green
eyes. Derek's devastatingly handsome features were marred by a thin lipped
mouth, a grim downturn at the corners gave him an air of cruelty, which was
partially deserved. A mane of thick, black backswept hair completed Derek's bad
boy catwalk good looks, neat dark blond completed Deucalion's.
Deucalion inclined forward slightly.
"I had the pleasure of having dinner with your uncle Peter the evening before
last." He began conversationally.
Derek wasn't aware his uncle and the wealthy Alpha even knew one another, but
his face remained unfathomable, his heartbeat even.
"I wasn't aware you'd met.." Derek replied evenly. "I trust you had a good
time?" He added casually.
Delightful, " Deucalion nodded, "We've been friends for some time and he served
delicious black cod with asparagus followed by the most superb venison and an
evening of sparkling repartee and interesting diversion what more could one
ask." He made a expansive gesture with his hands.
Derek forced a tight lipped smile, he knew quite well Deucalion wasn't there to
exchange recipes.
"Peter's an excellent host. But forgive me Alpha Deucalion," Derek leaned
forward transferring his elbows onto his desk, plucking a pen from it's holder
and twirling it over and over between his fingers, "you're a busy man, like
myself and I'm sure you haven't come to see me to discuss my uncle's dinner
parties." He raised expectant eyes and a dark eyebrow.
Deucalion gave a soft snort. "Your uncle said you weren't one for small talk."
"I find it's the best way." Derek's mouth spread into tight-lipped smile.
"Of course." Deucalion steepled his fingers and grazed the tips long his lower
lip. "As you say Peter's an excellent host and a generous one. During the
course of the evening he introduced me to his bitch, Princess."
Derek relaxed into the chair.
"To say that I was takenwith her would be an understatement," Deucalion
continued, "I found her a beautiful, fascinating creature and marveled at her
sexual skills, submission, lewdness and selfless devotion to our pleasure. She
reveled in erotic pain and wicked obscenity and was almost perfect."
Derek stiffened. "Almost?"He questioned.
"I mean no criticism." Deucalion raised his palm in a gesture of peace, "she
was perfect in every way but I would have preferred a less angelic look and
dark eyes, perhaps paler skin and thicker lips. Regarding her training, I found
no fault with it, she was correctly submissive , apparently without limits,
sexually expert and obliging."
"You fucked her." Derek said simply, it wasn't surprising, Peter like to show
off the bitch's skills and accept the kudos.
"I did," Deucalion' s eyes heated and mouth twisted into a smile. "Peter was
generous enough to allow me to take part in threesome, I found it invigorating,
exciting, her mouth skilled and as good as her ass,which despite being tight,
stretched to accommodate Peter and I with little problem. Later I was treated
to a very pleasant show of her being pissed on and fucked by three of Peter's
dogs. Those great ugly, hulking beasts he takes such pride in breeding."
Derek's smile mirrored Deucalion's. "I doubt he would appreciate their being
called ugly, I have one of them myself. Bear, a present from Peter."
"Each to his own," Deucalion pursed his lips, " I'm aware of their popularity
although I have to confess you don't strike me as the type to keep a dog as a
pet, even one of Peter's purpose bred beasts."
Derek let the pen fall from his fingers and roll across the desk. "Bear's not
so much a pet as tool of the trade. I keep him in a kennel run out back."
"Ah," Deucalion nodded, "you allow him to fuck the bitches?"
"As part of their training, yes. I find it concentrates their mind wonderfully
and shows them their proper place in the hierarchy of things. " His mouth
pulled into a sour grin. "Not to mention that it teaches them they can be
fucked anywhere, at anytime, by anything at their Alpha's whim."
"And satisfies their greedy holes."
"Precisely. By the time I'm finished they're cock hungry cum sluts that can't
go for long unless their ass or cunts are filled and their bellies obscenely
distended with cum."
Both Alpha gave twin smiles of sharp, satanic delight.
"I believe we can do business." Deucalion relaxed back into the enfolding
comfort of the chair. "Peter explained that you were responsible for creating
Princess."
"A gift to my uncle for being helpful in my recent move to these purpose built
premises."
"He told me you'd moved recently."
"Yes, " Derek responded, "this place is twice as big as the last and has proper
facilities for housing a bitch in training, even medical facilities. A state-of
-the -art operating theater and hospital so that we can carry out all the
modifications and medical procedures here without disturbing training."
"How many bitch's do you train at one time?"
"Just one."
Deucalion raised an eye brow. "One?" He echoed.
"Yes," Derek swiped his hand over his rough chin, "I'm hands on when it comes
to training, I don't employ anyone else. I trade on my good name and it's my
reputation on the line, so I do the training. I can create a basic bitch,
castrated and trained in three months, sometimes less at cost of $30,000. If
more modification, medical procedures and specialist training are wanted it
takes longer," he gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, "and costs
proportionately more."
Deucalion nodded. "You're preaching to the converted, your reputation preceded
you long before I spoke to Peter. I doubt very much there's a werewolf in this
community and beyond doesn't know who you are and what you do." He leant toward
Derek. "Your a true artist Derek and I want you to create a bitch for me."
Derek pushed back into his seat narrowing his eyes on the Alpha opposite.
"Alpha Deucalion I am not the only one whose reputation precedes them. " He
made vague hand gesture. "It would be a small matter for you to obtain a boy
yourself and turn him into a bitch to suit your needs. Both you and I know your
more than experienced in breaking humans."
"It's true." Deucalion agreed with a tip of his head, "I can and would but I
fear you flatter me," his cold blue eyes swept up to Derek's face, "I don't
have the kind of patience, restraint needed to make someone like Princess,
humans are so delicate and I'm afraid breaking is the operative word. Nor do I
have the time to devote to such an ambitious project. Peter assures me that you
are the wolf for the job and couldn't sing your praises highly enough
especially given the dreadful circumstances in which you lost your parents,
sister and relatives to human hunters."
Tension rolled through Derek's body at the mention of the arson attack which
destroyed his childhood home claiming the lives of his parents, several
relatives and older sister. Only he, Peter and Derek's younger sister, Cora
survived.
" It was thirteen years ago." Derek murmured without emotion.
"I doubt that is much comfort." Deucalion's eyes came up to study Derek's face
intently. "How you must hate humans."
Derek grunted. "To hate them implies a strong feeling toward them I don't
possess, I don't care enough about them to feel hate. I find them incredibly
stupid, slow, diabolically clever, treacherous, deceitful, untrustworthy,
woefully lacking in senses, instinct, disloyal to even their own kind and
capable of genocide, planetary destruction and species extinction."
Deucalion raised his eyebrows. "But you don't hate them." He said in a voice
colored with wry amusement.
Derek didn't care how it sounded and no doubt a psychologist would disagree,
but he didn't hate all humans, he just didn't have much time for them. He
enjoyed taking a boy and turning them into a creature devoted to serving
werewolves, bending their knee and finding joy in being exactly what they were
meant to be, a sexual plaything for a superior being. It was when they tried to
be something else that humans became a problem.
"No," Derek reiterated, "I get pleasure seeing them liberated from what they
think they should be into what they are actually capable of being."
Damn, Deucaion almost believed Derek believed what he was saying. "Your motives
for doing what you do don't concern me, your abilities to get the job done, do.
I have no patience for bleeding hearts who say we should treat humans more
ethically. "
Derek's eyes caught and held Deucalion's . "I can produce what you want."
"Good." Deucalion threaded his slender fingers together. "When can you begin?"
 
Derek's right hand swept up the tablet from the top of his desk and it sprang
to life as his finger skimmed across the screen. His eyes lifted up
momentarily. "You wish to commission me?"
"Yes."
"I'll need to draw up a contract with all the details."
"Whatever." Deucalion answered irascibly. "When can you begin?"
"I have a bitch ready to go to her new master the day after tomorrow."
Deucalion's face brightened. "Splendid!"
Derek gave a dark chuckle. "Not so fast, I need to acquire a suitable boy first
and check he's healthy before I can think about beginning. I don't want him
having a heart attack on me he first time I shift."
Deucalion made an exasperated gesture with his hands. "Whatever you say."
"I need some details, what kind of subject am I looking to acquire?"
A brief moue of thought creased Deucalion's mouth. "Dark hair and eyes, pale
skin, paler than Princess if possible, slender, slight build, but wiry, long
lean muscles, pretty, but not too feminine and as young as possible. I want my
money's worth out of her."
His head lifted and Derek's eyes narrowed. "I don't deal in children."
"Why, moral objection? " Deucalion asked with a sneer on his face.
Derek sat back. "No. I've learned from bitter experience that boys under the
age of about thirteen can't take being fucked by an Aphla and their physically
incapable of taking a knot. It rips them up too much and at best they take
weeks to heal, they get too slack or worse are too damaged to recover."
Deucalion gave a derisory snort. "The life of a bitch is only fifteen years or
so, humans age too fast to stay pretty and then they have to be replaced."
"There's an active market for older bitches in brothels and Alpha clubs." Derek
reasoned.
"I will get very little money back."
"You'll get fifteen years out of a fifteen or sixteen year old and they're
still young enough to train without breaking them too much, there's always the
danger younger ones shatter mentally."
"Very well," Deucalion huffed, "I leave the age in your hands, but draw the
line at seventeen."
"My upper limit is sixteen."
Deucalion grunted.
Derek's finger flicked across the tablet screen. "I'll draw up and send you the
contract, you can return it in person when you come to confirm the suitability
of the subject I've chosen." His green eyes met blue. "Satisfactory?"
Deucalion nodded.
Hale assumed a business-like air. " For $30,000 you get a bitch no older than
fifteen, castrated, basic training in submission and sex, hormonal implant to
prevent growth of body hair, beard." He looked from the screen to Deucalion.
"It also gives them softer, more curvaceous bodies, improves temperament,
enlarges nipples and shrinks the cock a little. For a lot of Alpha it's enough
and they use gags, mitts, cock cages and whatnot for the rest."
Deucalion's coolly impersonal voice broke the stillness. "I want everything."
Derek nodded. "How about I run through the list and you say yes or no?"
"That's acceptable."
"Cock reduction or sexual re-assignment." Derek began.
"Sexual re-assignment?" Deucalion raised his eyebrow. "If I wanted a female..."
"Ah, no, " Derek cut him off, "the addition of a neovagina, another hole to
fuck."
The older Alpha's eyes lit with interest. "Intriguing."
"It's done at the same time as castration. The castration is done as normal."
Derek's voice warmed as he spoke of the familiar procedure. "Very simply the
sheath is cut away from behind the head of the cock and rolled down the shaft
and then the cock deconstructed and the sheath becomes the vagina, the head of
the cock the clit and the excess skin of the nut sac the lips of the vagina. It
looks very good and you have a cunt to fuck."
"Sounds fascinating."
"It is. I can arrange for you to view the procedure if you like. Princess
wasn't done, just her cock docked, but it gives you the option of three holes
to fill." Derek's face slid into a twisted, dark smile.
"Yes I think I'd like that."
Derek pressed the tablet screen. "Partial or complete de vocalization?"
"Want to hear her scream."
Derek looked at the blonde Alpha. "A lot of my clients don't bother. I can
train her not to speak if you wish, for the rest there's gags and if like
Peter, you don't want her to be able to form words but still want the option of
using a gag to render her entirely mute, partial de vocalization allows her to
make a wide range of noises but not form words. You don't have the hassle of
removing the gag for drinking and feeding." He drew his wide shoulders up into
a shrug. "It's your choice. It's not invasive, done with lasers and just gives
her a sore throat."He waited expectantly.
Deucalion gave a moue of thought and furrowed his brow. "I think I'll go with
partial."
Derek nodded and tapped the screen. "Do you want the tendons in the fingers
severed? It renders the hands useless as hands, she can't grip, can't even make
a fist. She won't be able to wank you but hey," he gave a cynical smile,
"there's always her mouth. Makes her helpless without using fist mitts."
A devilish delight moved in Deucalion's eyes. "Definitely.
"Breasts ? Hormone injections into the nipple produce small breasts. A nice
handful." Derek held his hand as if weighing and mimicked squeezing. "If you
want something bigger you can always go for implants."
"And risk losing sensation? No, Deucalion huffed, " small is fine, I want an
androgynous look not too feminine. Besides Princess's titties were ideal for
clamps, piercing's and nipple torture."
Derek answered with an impersonal nod of his head. "I can do any piercing's,
tattoos and branding you like."
"I'll bear that in mind although I might like to do that myself."
"Of course." Derek answered mildly. "Now the last procedure is the most
difficult, controversial and expensive." He leaned back in his chair holding
the tablet in one hand and making a vague gesture with the other. "No doubt you
noted how Princess moved."
"It was one of the things I most admired, so graceful and nimble, I've never
seen it before. One is used to seeing them crawl on hands and knees they become
most accomplished, it's subservient but , a not the most graceful method of
locomotion. I noticed she walked on the balls of her feet and was unable to
straighten her legs."
"It's not hard to make it so they stay on all fours. Simply tie the ankles to
the thighs and after a couple of months they find it so painful to stand
upright, they don't try, a few more months and the muscles waste and tendons
shorten and they can't stand upright without help. But Princess underwent
surgery to reconstruct her legs. The doctor I use is a genius, a very clever
man, even Peter would say diabolically so. He's a qualified vet, doctor and
surgeon."
Deucalion's eyes narrowed on the younger Alpha. " Human?"
"Yes, but his family have been sympathizers, healers and emissaries to our kind
for generations." Hale rushed to assure him. "I've used him for years and he's
perfected many of his surgeries from operating on animals, especially dogs.
Alan Deaton is one of a kind, he has a bitch himself Belle, had her three
years. I won't bore you with the details..."
"Please don't." Deucalion snorted.
" He cuts a length off the Femur , Tibia and Fibula shortening the leg,
replaces it with a shortened length of a titanium implant with hinge for a knee
joint. The bones actually fuse onto the ends and grow into the implant. The
knee is much higher, like in the dog, he realigns the foot and the result is
that instead of crawling on hands and knees, after a few months they're running
about on hands and the balls of their feet."
"Excellent, we'll do that." Deucalion gave a sharp smile.
"Right so I'll read back what you want done. Derek scrolled back. Gender
reassignment, partial de vocalization, " he began to reel through he procedures
in a low, even tone, "tendons in the fingers severed, no to breast implants,
we'll discuss piercing's, tattoos and branding, and the leg surgery." Derek's
eyes lifted from the screen of the tablet expectantly as Decalion cleared his
throat. "Alpha?"
"Peter mentioned that you were toying with the idea of tails?"
A ghost of a smile hovered around Derek's mouth. "It's something we've tried."
"I'd be very interested. The idea of using a tail to lift her ass and pull her
back onto my cock is something which I find - appealing." Deuclion subtly
adjusted his crotch.
"Alan can fuse a tail to the coccyx without a problem, even supply it with
nerves and blood so that it has sensation, but he has yet to solve the movement
issue, it just hangs." Derek made a hopeless gesture.
"I'd be interested just the same." Deucalion pressed.
"I'll see what Deaton says, we can always do it last. In the meantime I'll draw
up the contract and get it to you."
Deucalion nodded. "So how long am I looking to waiting before delivery?"
Derek chuckled.
The older Alpha scowled. "I didn't realize I'd said something humorous." He
said tartly.
"I'm sorry it's just most Alpha ask how much not how long."
"I'm wealthy, money is not a concern," Deucalion said with emphasis, "however
my impatience is."
Derek pursed his lips and totted up the time in his head. "Along with the
training you are looking at between seven and ten months, nearer seven if the
bitch heals quickly and doesn't fight the training."
"That's ridiculous!" Decalion spluttered.
"And a cost of $225,000." Derek added calmly. It takes a three weeks to get
over the sexual realignment surgery, seven days for the hands and three months
or longer for the legs and then there's rehabilitation." He shook his head
resignedly and looked up. "The only way to cut the time is to cut the surgery."
Deucalion snorted. "I want to be informed every step of the way, to see her
when I like."
Derek gave a brief affirmative tip of his head. "You can see her, even fuck her
as long as it doesn't interfere with her program."
Deucalion grunted. "I suppose I can be patient to get what I want."
Derek lay the tablet on the desk. "Shall I draw up a contract - have we a
deal?" He leaned forward and extended his big hand across the desk.
Deucalion inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly and then mirrored Derek's movement
meeting him half way. "We have a deal." They shook hands...
***** Ruby *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings: Graphic Bestiality, Wrist Locked Mittens, Restraint,
     Breeding Bench, knotting. (I am SO going to hell, anyone wanting to
     go with me, I'm taking bookings!) 
     DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're
     not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author
     or other readers.
Derek's muscular frame filled the doorway as he watched Deucalion leave. The
older Alpha strode toward the long, black limousine parked on the pale gravel
drive outside the house. In the distance Bear's booming bark echoed through the
stillness from the run of his kennel as Deucalion's burly Alpha driver come
bodyguard, opened the rear door of the car.
The Alpha driver was an impressive, if not a particularly handsome brute, six
feet four of pure muscle and brawn wedged in a tight, short sleeved, black Tee-
shirt straining across his chest and around impressive biceps. His look was
completed by tight, black jeans hugging thick, muscular thighs, a broad leather
belt around a trim waist, black, mirrored sunglasses and light, black boots.
The afternoon sun bounced off his bald head. He lacked Derek's elegance and
sculpted look in favor of raw boned power meant to intimidate.
"Thank you Ennis." Deucalion muttered as he slid gracefully onto the back seat
of the car.
Ennis secured the door. The driver turned toward the house and for a moment ,
behind the sunglasses Ennis eyes met Derek's, narrowed and hardened. Derek
refused to look away, his expression relaxed and unfathomable, not an Alpha to
back down or be intimidated as Ennis was used to. For a long moment they
assessed each other and then Ennis rounded the front of the car, opened the
driver's door and slid behind the wheel. Moments later Derek stepped out of the
doorway onto the drive and watched the limousine glide into the distance.
Derek turned, it was late afternoon and the sun rolled along the tops of the
leafy trees that surrounded the property beyond the exercise field with it's
trimmed grass and further to the left out buildings and double garage. Two
vehicles were drawn up outside the garage, one a sleek, black 2016 Camaro Z1
and the other a 2016 Mercedes G350 SUV in metallic Desert Sand, both vehicles
had heavily tinted windows.
The birds sang and Derek inhaled a long breath and exhaled slowly looking at
the house. He had only lived there two months and he loved the place. I was
purpose built to his own design and his uncle had helped him secure the
sizeable piece of land the house was built on. The house was multi roomed on
two levels, far bigger than Derek needed, but he liked space. He indulged
himself in a state-of-the-art kitchen filled with gadgets where he cooked and
experimented with meals that he tried out on his uncle and Dr Alan Deaton, a
walk in freezer (handy for storing whole deer) and an overlarge wet room with
large multi headed shower cubicle and double sized, egg shaped tub with
whirlpool action. For the rest there was a large master bedroom, three smaller
bedrooms, three other conventional bathrooms, a multi gym, home office, utility
room, lounge and entertainment rooms, home office and a small library where he
loved to read his collection of first editions. The house was open and airy,
floor to ceiling windows, uncluttered and sparsely furnished with expensive,
elegant , functional furniture, hard wood floors, thick Aubusson rugs and
painted walls in forest shades, restful and tranquil.
He had a Beta cleaner come in three times a week and her Beta son and husband
looked after the extensive grounds. Creating bitches for wealthy Alpha clients,
paid well.
His pride and joy were the purpose built bitch quarters housed in an extension
on the side of the house and accessed from both in and outside. It was long and
low, the windows set up high so that the outside world seemed remote and
distant but let in plenty of natural light. The climate inside was carefully
controlled, pleasantly warm Summer and Winter, a must when dealing with naked
humans. The kennel was in fact more like a small cell with white tiled walls
and black and white tiled floor sloping down gently to a long drain just beyond
the bars that made hosing out easy, three walls and a barred front with
attachments for the stainless steel feeding bowl and overlarge hamster- like,
spouted water bottle (much more hygienic than a bowl and spill proof). A large
platform jutted out from the wall, four inches above the floor, on it was a
thin mattress with a waterproof cover and a tartan blanket, there was no
outside run. On the wall directly opposite the kennel was a large, flat panel
TV and beyond the kennel other rooms, a bathroom with bath, a shower attachment
(set down low and with a long, flexible hose for use in the bath) had a bi
valve so that water could be diverted to the enema kit, a long , flexible metal
hose with a slim probe for internal cleansing. There were other rooms, the
medical examination room, the one bed hospital room, the small, vacuum sealed,
state-of-the-art , sterile operating theater, a mini BDSM play room, food
storage and preparation area, and Derek's favorite, the breeding room with it's
breeding stand, bench, dark oak armoire of sex toys, multi tailed floggers,
restraints and adjustable spreader bars.
Derek took a moment to admire the set up, so much better than his last place.
Twice as big, no near neighbors and set in countryside with the bustling
werewolf town only twenty minutes drive one way and his uncle's Hale Kennels
ten minutes the other. It was ideal and away from the prying eyes of S.E.T.H. -
Society for the Ethical Treatment of Humans a small, annoying bunch of mostly
youthful werewolves who wanted better treatment for humans in their society.
They had few sympathizers and less support, but they were vocal and had once
attempted to rescue one of Derek's bitches from her kennel, it was unsuccessful
and left the poor creature traumatized. When would they realize the treachery
and danger of humans and that once trained for their true vocation they didn't
need or want rescuing.
It made the news and generated the kind of publicity that money can't buy.
Everyone supported Derek, he was never able to match demand to supply and
overnight commissions trebled, he had to limit himself to wealthiest clients,
his books overflowed and demand far outstripped his ability to create, of
course he could have hired people, delegated training, God knows it was easy
enough to obtain subjects. Human teenage boys were always running away from
home and never being heard from again, some parents didn't even care...but that
wasn't his way. What he had said to Deucalion was true, he was very much hands
on, besides he was as horny as the next Alpha, between fucking bitches, the
Omega Brothels and Alpha Clubs his sexual appitite's and kinks were largely
catered for.
Derek had his next commission, he felt the familiar rush he always got at the
prospect of a new bitch to train. Of course Deuclion wasn't the only Alpha
waiting, but he was the wealthiest and his bitch by far the most financially
rewarding. Few Alpha wanted the full works, most settled for something in
between basic and the whole nine yards. The prospect of working on Deucalon's
bitch exhilarated Derek and pushed Deucalion to the head of the queue and for
the next six to ten months Derek had his work set and would accept no further
commissions.
God he loved his work.
But, for the moment there was Ruby. Ruby was his present bitch and ready to go
to her new home the day after tomorrow, her training and transformation into a
perfect bitch complete. Ruby had been an easy commission, Alpha Tanner didn't
want much in the way of physical alteration- castration, partial de
vocalization and a hormonal implant beneath the skin to ensure small breasts, a
complete lack of body hair, a more curvaceous than angular body, light muscle
and a shrunken cock. Personally Derek would have had the cock docked to half an
inch or so, it was more esthetically pleasing and it wasn't as if it was
useful. Her sexual training had been extensive, almost as extensive as
Princess, resulting in a lewd, obscene creature who reveled in submission,
degradation, abasement and pain.
A priapic monster at fourteen.
Tomorrow was her last visit to Deaton's clinic for a final health check,
microchip implant with all the information about her new owner and to ensure
her tracking chip was working. Talk of Deucalion's commission had reawakened
Derek's arousal, he'd already played with and fucked Ruby earlier in the day
but his balls felt full , heavy between his legs, his cock was semi hard, the
hum of arousal spiraled and sparked throughout his body, besides Ruby wouldn't
mind or Bear, who was feeling neglected . Derek adjusted himself in his tight,
blue jeans, he'd indulge himself for a couple of hours while he had the chance,
bed Ruby and Bear down for the night and make some calls to put in motion the
search for a suitable subject for Deuclion's bitch, it would take awhile, a
week or more. Then he'd do some purchasing from the specialist online sex and
BDSM outlets, at the very minimum he needed a leather harness, bone shaped gag,
padded fist and foot mitts, a new set of butt plugs, a shock collar and regular
leather dog collar in pink. The rest of the sexual paraphernalia he had, he'd
just sterilize it ready for use with the new bitch.
Derek strode purposefully between the house and the fenced exercise field with
a spring in his step, following the path that led past the garages and out
buildings toward Bear's kennel block. The kennel block consisted of a brick
built indoor kennel made up of sleeping quarters and food preparation room with
it's own fridge/freezer, sink and table and a large, paved and fenced outside
run. It looked for all the world like an old fashioned cage at a zoo, high
metal bars rather than the familiar wire fenced the run and it looked suitable
for a wild, exotic animal.
Bear was in his run and pacing irascibly along the fence, aggravated by
Deucalion's visit, he lifted his head and stilled when he saw Derek approach,
pricking his triangular, upright ears. Deucalion was right, the massive beast
in the run could hardly be called beautiful, impressive, intimidating even
magnificent - yes, but not beautiful. He was a creature of Peter Hale's own
breeding designed as a companion for werewolves, especially Alpha and an extra
line of defense for their families and packs. Irish Wolfhound and Great Dane
for height and temperament, English Bull Mastiff and American Bulldog for
weight, strength and tenacity, Tibetan Mastiff, Pit Bull and Timber Wolf for
aggression, pack mentality, and acceptance of hierarchy. The result was a beast
that wouldn't have looked out of place guarding the gates of hell or hunting at
an Alpha's side. It had taken Peter more than ten years to perfect the Hale
Hound and demand outstripped his ability to produce them, they rivaled Derek's
bitches in popularity.
Bear was a fine example of his breeding. Standing well in excess of three feet
at the shoulder he fell short of Derek's waist by only a few inches and weighed
in at a lean 240 pounds. His legs were as thick as Derek's lower forearm, his
ribs well sprung and his chest deep. His head was most like a wolf with prick
ears, eerie, pale gray eyes, pointed medium sized muzzle, and large maw armed
with impressive fangs. His coat was gray marl, rough, medium-length, waterproof
guard hairs most like the wolfhound and a soft , thick undercoat like a wolf
and a wolf's tail carried level with his back.
Bear's relationship with Derek was best described in werewolf terms, he was
Beta to Derek's Alpha and they had respect for each other rather than
affection. In another world Bear would have been an Alpha to his own pack of
dogs, here he occasionally tested his limits, but generally accepted Derek as
his Alpha and was extremely loyal.
The bitch was Omega to them both and Derek was a generous Alpha allowing Bear
to fuck her frequently, once she was ready to take his impressive knot .
As Derek neared his run, Bear's tongue lolled out , head lowered and his tail
swished slowly from side to side in greeting, he wasn't an ebullient dog and
not given to any extreme display of emotion except arousal. Derek reached the
kennel and Bear watched with interest as he unlocked his run, looking beyond
him for any sign of the current bitch and disappointed when there was none.
Derek swung the door of the run open, but Bear didn't move.
"Out Bear."
At his Alpha's command Bear trotted through the open door and stood expectantly
beside Derek on the path. Derek rested his hand on Bear's broad, brown leather
collar embellished with brass spikes.
"Let's go and have some fun with Ruby, huh boy?" The Alpha murmured with a
salcious smile and side by side they walked back toward the extension.
 
Derek and Bear entered the extension through the side door from outside. There
was still enough afternoon light filtering through the high windows into the
block that Derek didn't need to flick on the long fluorescent tubes that ran
the full length of the building. He closed the door and ordered Bear to sit and
stay whilst he went to check on Ruby.
The bitch was in her cell-like kennel, laid dozing on the bed nestled in the
red tartan blanket. Ruby raised her head as soon as she heard Derek and Bear
enter and shut the door behind them and gazed at them with sleepy expectation
and curiosity. As Derek took a step toward the kennel she slithered off the bed
onto all fours, yawned and crawled on her hands and knees to the bars at the
front of the cell. She was a naked, pretty creature and her movements fluid and
not without grace.
The most difficult thing about fulfilling Alpha Tanner's commission was that
like Deucalion, he had been very specific about what he wanted. He wanted a
bitch as young as possible with flaming red hair, green eyes, slender, slight
build and freckles, freckles and green eyes were non negotiable. It had taken
Derek three weeks to obtain the right boy after looking at several, either they
were too old, their hair wasn't red enough, they didn't have freckles or their
eyes were brown.
Then one of his pimp contacts had found Ruby.
The boy was ideal, just turned fourteen when Derek got him. A pretty, soft face
still round with puppy fat, a riot of freckles over the bridge of his nose and
upper cheeks, his back and upper chest, flaming red hair with a loose, curled
and tousled look, slight build, lightly tanned skin and large eyes the color of
polished emeralds under golden red brows and long lashes. Tanner had declared
him perfect and Derek got to work.
Ruby was a dream to work with. The product of a physically and sexually abusive
father and a drug addict mother he had been neglected and abused for years. He
soaked up Derek's attention like a sponge and craved any sign of kindness or
praise Derek tossed his way. Ruby was both eager to please, submissive and
highly responsive. Despite a poor academic ability, he learned quickly and
responded positively to both punishment and paise. He had inherited his
mother's addictive personality, and was soon addicted to sex, crying and
miserable if he went more than a few hours without being fucked. The bitch had
initially balked at being fucked by Bear, Derek had disillusioned her of the
fact she had any choice in the matter by loading her into the back of the SUV,
taking her to Peter's kennels and putting her in a breeding stand and releasing
several of Peter's most enthusiastic studs on her.
She was bred eight times in succession and subsequently wore Bear out with her
demands for sex whenever Derek allowed it.
Ruby was castrated and partially de vocalized from the outset and combined with
a hormone implant his body was hairless, softly curved and he had small, puffy
breasts, large dusky rose nipples and a cock which shrunk to a bear three and a
half inches and was more or less useless.
He became she.
Ruby wore red leather padded mittens like a boxer's gloves, without thumbs that
buckled around the wrist and similar on her feet, secured round the ankles and
thick knee pads. For a long time she wore leg restraints to keep her on her
knees, now she couldn't stand upright without support and no longer thought of
doing so. She could make a variety of muffled noises, grunts, squeals, groans,
moans, soft screams but couldn't form words. Ruby' s pride and joy was her inch
and a half wide, pink, leather collar and comfortable red, leather harness that
Derek used to maneuver and even carry her and which she always wore.
"Hello Ruby," Derek placed his thumb on the complex biometric interface that
released the door of the kennel with a soft click, "want to come out and play
with me and Bear?"
Ruby looked up at Derek with a rather stupid, guileless expression. She didn't
exactly understand what was being said but she recognized her name and Bear's,
out and play and saw Derek's lascivious smile that made her shiver, along with
the husky tone of his voice and sensuous flame in his eye. Her eyes dropped to
Derek's crotch and the bulge there made her pulse race and body ache to be
filled. She crawled forward eagerly and Derek chuckled when she nuzzled his
crotch pushing at his hardening cock and his fingers twisted into her hair.
"Eager cock slut."
It wasn't said unkindly and behind them Bear panted and whined eagerly, his
eyes bright and fixed on the pretty bitch's ass.
Derek combed his fingers through Ruby's red tresses and allowed his nails to
scratch her scalp, she gave a low whine and pushed into his touch. He had to
admit he'd miss fucking her, which was unusual as redheads didn't normally
appeal, there again he'd have a new bitch to replace her soon enough. His
shoulders drew up into a brief, casual shrug. Derek released his grip on the
bitch's hair .
"Come on girl, let's not make Bear wait."
Derek ruffled her hair too roughly to be really affectionate, but Ruby didn't
seem to notice.
"Breeding Room."
Derek's command made Ruby's muscles tighten and the bood rush through her veins
as she set off crawling ahead in the direction of the room directly at the end
of the building. Derek followed leaving Bear where he was, whining and
shuddering with frustration and excitement.
"Won't be long boy." Derek promised as he followed Ruby with a measured tread,
enjoying the roll of the round globes of her ass and winking pink pucker,
tightly furled as she moved ahead of him with swaying hips. Derek was glad
Deaton's injections directly into the rectum made plugging and preparation
unnecessary, the injections improved elasticity of the rim and muscles as well
as toughened the skin and flesh to prevent tearing. At Ruby's stage she could
be fisted dry and not suffer damage and her hole return to being tight within
ten minutes from wide and gaping. It was a huge selling point, meant bitches
were always ready to be fucked and never resulted in slack, sloppy holes, no
matter how often they were bred or injured. It was well known Alpha's were
inclined to skip foreplay , in their wolf forms, they didn't stop to lube up
and humans didn't heal quickly not even as quickly as Omega...
When she reached the door of the Breeding Room Ruby nosed the door open and
continued inside, her movements picked up by sensors and the lights turned on
automatically in the windowless room. The room was larger than you'd expect,
plain, pale green walls and white ceiling with recessed lighting. A black
rubberized floor for comfort when lying or crawling, thick crash mats like
those used in martial arts allowed rough and tumble play, a spouted water
bottle, filled and attached to the wall at bitch height and several pieces of
furniture. A dark oak armoire in the corner, a man-sized cage for all the world
like an oversized dog crate with rubberized mat, a complex looking breeding
stand bolted to the floor all polished chrome and dark green leather with multi
points of restraint and adjustment and a much simpler breeding bench like a
broad saw horse. The A shaped wooden legs of the breeding bench had wrist and
ankle cuffs and the bench itself was thickly padded and covered in well worn
green leather and the whole thing bolted to the floor. By far the most odd
thing in the room was a green leather Chesterfield couch.
Derek went over to the breeding bench and clicked his fingers, without further
bidding Ruby draped herself over the bench, letting her head hang over one end,
her ass the other, her chest and upper abdomen supported by the bench.
Derek ran one hand over her ass, enjoying the feel of silky skin and twitching
muscles beneath . "Good bitch, ready to be fucked and please your studs?" A
shiver answered his question.
Ruby's insides quaked with excitement.
Derek bent and secured the wrist and ankle cuffs, he knew there was little
need, Ruby would stay in place no matter what, but what he planned was going to
be rough and she could be knocked out of place and he wanted her secure, but
with more movement than in the restrictive breeding stand. He took step back
and admired her helpless beauty, open and vulnerable to anything he cared to
do.
Derek's cock hardened with ferocious speed.
He crossed his arms and grasped the hem of his wife beater and tugged it up and
over his head and tossed it away. The light sheened off Derek's tanned skin and
his muscles rippled , bunched and flexed. His chest had a mat of fine, dark
hair and he toed off his boots and socks, whistling for Bear as he did so and
snapping the leather through the buckle of his belt, the soft swish of leather
through denim, the soft thud as it hit the floor. A background of drumming paws
as Bear galloped eagerly into the room and skidded to a halt as Derek's jeans
and boxers pooled around his ankles and Ruby whined as he stepped out of them
and kicked them away.
The Alpha's cock was a wide, tall column of turgid flesh against his belly,
thick veins like a complex road map up it's length and flaring out with a knot
of erectile tissue where his cock disappeared into a tangle of wiry, dark hair
and below ripe balls like firm peaches. His hips were lean, angular, his waist
narrow and thighs tightly muscled, the skin covered in a smattering of hair ,
virile and masculine, his buttocks high, round and firm. Derek stroked himself
languidly as Bear waited expectantly, his fingers cuffed just below the flared
head and teased the bundle of nerves there until he hissed and electricity
arced up his spine.
Bear and Ruby waited, bodies wound tight as Derek ground his teeth and sucked
in air and exhaled slowly.
"Bear mount."
The command came with abrupt sharpness and the massive dog needed no second
bidding. He reared up and grasped Ruby around the waist with bone crushing
force so that the breath was punched out of her in a low whine. There was no
gentleness in Bear's rutting as his cock, a broad, angry, red and veined spear
was plunged over and over against Ruby's flesh leaving a brand of pre-cum and
bruises blossoming under the skin. Bear panted and growled in frustration as
his cock slid up Ruby's crack.
Derek stood by her head and watched Ruby's face, her eyes flying wide as the
pointed head of Bear's cock found it's mark . For a brief moment they were all
still, suspended in anticipation and then the muscles in Bear's thighs bunched
and he surged forward burying himself into Ruby in one vicious, uncontrolled
thrust, the bitch's back arched. His balls bounced off her ass and furred
thighs pressed against her silky skin. Ruby let out a muffled yelp and slid a
couple of inches along the bench as Bear draped himself over her back and
really began to move, saliva drooling onto Ruby's shoulder.
This was the moment Derek had been waiting for, he grasped his cock and slapped
Ruby across the cheek with it.
"Lick it bitch, make me wet." He rasped, his voice warped with lust.
Ruby's tongue curled around and over as she slurped and licked at Derek's hard
dick, swiping with the broadest part of her tongue and pressing it against the
thick, throbbing veins and over the wide crown. Low whines of pleasured pain
were punched out of her as Bear plunged rapidly in and out, in and out, over
and over at a blistering pace, hopping from one back foot to the other in an
erotic tap dance. His cock swelled and dragged against her sensitive walls,
each twist and flex, each nuance an echoing sensation laying siege to her body
and making her flesh quake.
Suddenly Derek was gone from in front of her and Bear's swollen knot caught on
her rim as he pushed it in and wrenched it out, she let out a muffled cry as
the dog pushed in again, the grotesquely swollen knot of flesh stretching her
rectum obscenely and cock moving in her belly. Bear ground down, his cock
grinding against her insides and making Ruby flush with heat and light up like
the fourth of July, her body shook with pleasure . She lifted her ass an inch
and tried to push back as Bear's release flooded her insides in hot, frantic
spurts, each feeling like another thrust. Dog and bitch panted raggedly for
breath and sucked in air.
Behind Bear, Derek knelt and lifted his tail, the dog turned his head and saw
his Alpha, glistening cock in hand and whined in anticipation. It wouldn't be
the first time Derek fucked Bear, it wouldn't even be the first time he'd done
it while Bear was buried and knotted inside a bitch. They had the dynamics of a
werewolf pack and as Alpha, Derek got to fuck who he pleased, it was his right
and a matter of dominance and bonding. It kept Bear in his place, reminded him
who was top dog, Derek fucked him and they both fucked the bitch and anyway he
enjoyed it. Bear curled his tail to the side in invitation and rest his chin on
Ruby's back. Derek traced Bear's flexing pucker with the thick , blunt head of
his cock and then pushed inside an inch. Bear yelped and then relaxed and Derek
began to rock, pushing his cock further in as he came forward and curling his
hands around Bear's furred thighs. Compared to Bear's plunge into Ruby, Derek's
was slow as he fed his cock into Bear. It was for pleasure not punishment and
although he was asserting dominance, it wasn't Derek's intention to hurt or
distress the dog.
Derek rocked back and forth his thrusts getting stronger, quicker and going
deeper until Bear was taking him all, Derek's balls bouncing off Bear's. The
Alpha closed his eyes and head tipped forward as he savored Bear's hot channel,
several degrees higher than Ruby's, tight and plush, muscles rippling
rhythmically along his length as the dog ground down and pumped seed into the
bitch. Derek hissed, growled a low sound of dominance rumbling from his chest
and vibrating through his body into Bear and Ruby below, his fingers tightened
on the dog's thighs as he gave in to feral need and ferocious lust, the muscles
in his buttocks bunching and abdomen hardening before each powerful thrust.
Punch in and glide out , punch in and glide out, over and over.
Bear whined as he felt the Alpha's cock swell, filling his channel and
stretching muscle tight, the blunt crown pummeling the dog's insides and
sending bolts of pleasure ricocheting from nerve ending to nerve ending, their
heavy pants, ragged breathing, low whines , moans of pleasure punctuated by the
groan of wood and creak of leather filling the quiet of the room.
Derek controlled everything setting a fierce pace, plowing into Bear and the
dog grinding down into Ruby. Bear rapidly hopped from backfoot to backfoot
again as he felt the start of Derek's knot drag against his rim. Derek didn't
always breed him like a bitch, tying him with his knot and filling his stomach
with his seed until it distended, overflowed and dribbled out of his ass. Most
often Derek did this in wolf form, the great creature dwarfing even Bear in
size so that he hung off his cock the Alpha's jaws around his neck, reveling in
feeling helpless, small and vulnerable.
Derek pushed his knot through Bear's rim feeling the dog's muscles contract and
clamp down with each renewed spurt and grind into Ruby. His knot was squeezed
as if by a hand in velvet glove, he ground into Bear's ass and Bear ground into
Ruby. Derek felt his muscles tense and lightning forked down his spine and went
to earth in his balls. He gave a triumphant growl as his release spurted from
his cock and painted Bear's insides, each new contraction of Bear's muscles and
Derek's knot was embraced by the most intimate of caresses and milked dry.
Derek drew out Bear's release, Bear milked his knot and Ruby, red faced, skin
misted with sweat, eyes heavy and glazed, shuddered and gasped for breath,
swamped by sensation and almost unconscious from over stimulation, painful
pleasure and an intoxication of sensation.
For several more minutes Bear continued to come and then slumped spent over
Ruby's back while Derek still emptied into him in violent spurts. After ten
minutes Bear's knot deflated enough that he was able to pull free of Ruby and
Derek helped him slide off her back and stand diagonally to her in a rocking
horse pose, Derek wasn't finished with him.
Derek pulled Bear back onto his cock and ground deep with a twist and flex of
his hips. Bear was pushed onto his elbows, ass angled in the air and Derek
seemed to slide even deeper his hands curling around the dog's thighs. The
dog's tongue lolled, he wore a stupid, blissful expression and he heaved great
pants. Derek reached for the dog's thick cock, red and glistening hanging from
his chubby sheath and he wrapped his fingers around it and began to tug and
stroke rapidly. Bears hips began to thrust, jack rabbiting into Derek's fist
his knot swelling. Derek shifted his hold so that Bear knotted his fist and
secure in his hold Derek squeezed and released the hard gnarl of erectile
tissue pulsing against his palm. Bear came hard, ropes of seed spurting
erratically from his cock, not as much as before but it rolled on and on, his
channel clamped down so hard on Derek's knot that the Alpha hissed and bucked
forward with a snarl and flooded Bear's channel with his seed so that it
overflowed and dribbled out beside his still pulsing cock...
***** Out With The Old *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings: Bestiality, Enema/Douche, Implied Prostitution
Derek and Bear lay leveled and entwined on the padded floor of the breeding
room, the dog attached to Derek by his Alpha's cock and the knot of hard flesh
buried in his spasming channel. Derek dragged his fingers through Bear's rough
fur and the dog's tail thumped lazily against the floor with a rhythmic thud.
Derek continued to grind and empty into the dog with the occasional hard spurt
of cum, particularly when he stroked the dog's spent cock and made Bear's
muscles tighten on his knot. Derek crooned words of praise and glanced across
at Ruby collapsed and lax, laid on the bench. Bear moaned softly, his lush
channel squeezing Derek and milking him dry. It didn't hurt, but it was
uncomfortable and made his insides ache, but he didn't move or struggle. After
about fifteen minutes Derek was spent, although it was another twenty before
his knot had deflated enough that he was able to pull out of the dog and roll
onto his back. He lay still for a few moments savoring the lethargy and
contentment that washed over him while Bear twisted his head around, raised his
leg and swiped his tongue over his tender and gaping hole.
Derek levered into a sitting position and swiped a hand against his rough
stubble and rose fluidly to his feet, smiling wryly when he wobbled a little
and righted himself. He padded across to where Ruby lay slumped against the
cushioned leather of the breeding bench and inspected her hole, his hand
resting in the small of her back above the soft swell of her ass. Deaton's
shots into the muscle of the anus worked wonders, the rim was much more
pliable, elastic and the rosebud entrance to her body had already furled shut
even after having Bear's impressive knot grinding into her and she was already
tight and inviting for her next fuck.
Derek hated slack holes.
Derek patted her ass. "Good bitch." He said silkily and she whined softly
raising her head as much as she was able. Derek unfastened the ankle cuffs and
then moved to Ruby's head, ruffled her red hair roughly and unfastened the
wrist cuffs from the legs of the bench. He helped her slide off the bench to
stand unsteadily on all fours, Bear watched with mild interest from his
recumbent position.
Ruby looked up at Derek her eyes glassy and heavy lidded, her cheeks still
heated, her freckles standing out against rosy skin. Her face glistened with
perspiration and sweat sodden strands of hair were plastered to her forehead.
Derek reached out a hand and flicked the strands from her brow noting the
debauched, well fucked look and somewhat stupid, vacant expression with
satisfaction. She smelt of sweat, sex and exhaustion.
Derek didn't bother to dress, there was no-one to see his nakedness and even if
there was, he didn't care, born and raised a werewolf nakedness and modesty
were not an issue and certainly not a cause for embarrassment, he left that to
humans. He bent and swiped up his clothes and balled them in his fist and left
the breeding room and headed toward the compact bathroom, Ruby and Bear
following in his wake.
The bathroom is nothing fancy, white tiled walls and black and white tiled
floor, much the same as Ruby's kennel. There was a white suite, a tub with
oversized drainage , basin and toilet. A cupboard beneath the sink held clean
towels and another cupboard above held bathing and medical supplies and a
wicker laundry basket in the corner. There was a glass shelf on the wall over
the bath held more supplies and a shower low on the wall with long flexible
hose and a bivalve that allowed water to be diverted to the enema kit, the
aluminum tube was six feet long and kept curled up on the wall, the
interchangeable silicone and aluminum tips kept on the glass shelf. Ruby
followed Derek inside as he tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and Bear
flopped down in the doorway with his head on his paws to watch the proceedings.
Derek grasped Ruby by the back of her red harness and swung her effortlessly
into the tub onto the pink, thick rubber mat in the bottom. She waited
patiently as Derek opened the cupboard above the sink and took out the PVC
douche and enema flush bulb in the obligatory pink with a slender white tip,
4.5 inches in length, slightly curved, slick, flexible and with side and end
holes for better cleansing. Derek unscrewed the bulb and plucked the bottle of
mildly medicated douche from the cupboard, the amber liquid was made up to
Deaton's specifications and the antibiotic it contained designed to keep the
bitch's channel and colon clean, healthy and free from infection. Derek
carefully measured out a dose of the douche and completed filling the bulb with
luke warm water, about 10oz of liquid in all and screwed the bulb back onto the
tip. Ruby saw the bulb and knew the discomfort that was coming, gave a resigned
sigh and dropped her head to await the inevitable.
Derek turned his attention to the bitch in the bath and placed a hand in the
small of her back, more to ensure compliance than to offer comfort and when she
whined his voice had an edge of roughness.
"That's enough of that, this is for your own good."
Derek beliveved in cleaning the bitch out with the douche three or four times a
week and especially after being fucked by the dog. Werewolves produced between
five and eight times more semen than humans and with a faster recovery time and
an Alpha's active libido the bitch was filled often and the dog produced watery
semen with a lot of prostatic fluid. The douche cleaned out the spunk, ensured
good health and made for a better experience for him, besides which he enjoyed
doing it and it was another way of showing the bitch he had control over her
body. He screwed the white, flexible end of the bulb into her puckered anus,
thanks to Deaton's shots it went in easily enough with little resistance and he
pushed it in about four inches before squeezing the liquid from the bulb.
Ruby still whimpered as the tube was pushed into her hole . "Hush." Derek
quieted her and Ruby felt the warm liquid gush from the bulb and into her body.
It was uncomfortable rather than painful and there wasn't enough liquid to more
than distend her stomach a little and make it ache dully, but she knew it would
be plugged inside her and left to do its work throughout the rest of her bath
and sure enough Derek carefully withdrew the end of the douche with a stern
warning .
"Hold the medicine inside, don't let go."
Ruby did as she was told and held the liquid inside her, clenching her buttocks
until Derek took a pink, medium sized silicone butt plug from the glass shelf
above the bath and pressed the cone shaped plug into her anus, trapping the
medication inside.
Derek disposed of the bulb by dropping it into the sink and set about adjusting
the water of the shower to a reasonable heat and then drenched Ruby all over
with the warm spray, ignoring her wriggles of discomfort. He lathered up his
hands using the creamy shower milk with added oils and honey to protect and
nourish the bitch's delicate skin. He used broad, sweeping strokes to cover her
skin, unhurried and thorough, tutting udner his breath at the sight of thin red
tracks scored into her sides, hips and buttocks by Bear's claws. Derek made a
mental note to cut back he dog's claws or perhaps invest in a pair of leather
booties for the dog to wear when he fucked the bitch. Bear wouldn't like the
idea but Derek wasn't really concerned.
The marks would be gone long before Alpha Tanner came to collect Ruby which was
just as well, Alpha didn't like marks on their bitches unless they inflicted
them.
Derek's hand glided over Ruby's smooth, wet skin and she unconsciously leaned
into his touch and when Derek moved on to washing her hair she closed her eyes
in contentment and savored his firm, efficient touch. It was over to soon for
Ruby and Derek was using the spray to rinse way the soap and shampoo.
Derek dropped the rose head of the shower into the bath and lost no time in
working the plug out of Ruby's ass and it's removal was accompanied by a gush
of amber, medicated liquid from her anus that splashed against the white
porcelain and swirled away down the drain, but Derek wasn't finished. He lifted
the enema tube from the wall and took the thin aluminum nozzle from the shelf
and screwed on to the end and then diverted the water from the shower into the
enema tube and adjusted the heat, letting the water run over his wrist. When he
was satisfied with the temperature, Derek rudely worked the nozzle into Ruby's
ass. She moaned as she felt the rush of warm water flooding her insides.
"Hush."
Derek dropped one hand and stroked her stomach feeling the gush of liquid
distending it. Ruby moaned, she didn't like enemas, but she held her position
as she had been taught. She sucked in a breath trying her hardest not to
wriggle as the water pushed into her body and the pressure built and her
stomach bloated. Derek murmured close to her ear. "Nearly there." And caressed
her stomach in an unaccustomed show of tenderness. It was more than merely
uncomfortable now, her insides distended, heavy, stretched and filled by the
water, the once dull ache becoming acute. Ruby's breath came in choppy pants
and Derek felt the tension of her stomach.
"Removing the nozzle now. Don't release until I tell you."
Ruby gritted her teeth and concentrated on tightening her ring as Derek worked
the nozzle free of her body.
"Hold it as long as you can, there's a good bitch."
Ruby preened under Derek's praise as he diverted the water back to the
showerhead and hung the enema tube back on the wall.
"Release."
Ruby surrendered and relaxed her rim with a pained moan and the water,what was
left of Bear's spunk and the medicine gushed from her, drenching her ass and
thighs and swirled away down the drain. When the rush had dwindled to a trickle
and almost stopped Derek turned the shower on her and she was bathed in a
cascade of soothing, warm water that made her relax, feel floaty and peaceful.
Derek lifted Ruby from the bath by the back of her harness and dried her
thoroughly using two towels from the cupboard under the sink and being
particular about scrubbing her hair as dry as possible. It was comfortably warm
in the bitch block and Ruby didn't need clothes to keep warm. All the same
Derek was careful, compared to werewolves humans were inclined to be delicate
and seemed to get sick just to be contrary and this close to getting paid for
his work, he was taking no chances.
He tossed the towels casually into the laundry basket and then strode out of
the bathroom, stepping over Bear laid across the threshold. The big dog pushed
to his feet and fell into step with Ruby as they followed after Derek.
Derek walked past a couple of rooms on he right whose doors were closed and
headed toward the kitchen area.
"Ruby go to your kennel."
He tossed the command nonchalantly over his shoulder without bothering to turn
around confident that the bitch would obey him and she veered left and went
back through the open door of her kennel and sat expectantly on her haunches
just inside the door, eyes glued to where Derek and Bear disappeared into the
kitchen.
Derek wasted no time in getting Ruby's stainless steel bowl from the cupboard
and filled it with two plastic scoops full of food from the airtight plastic
bin where it was kept, the food smelt a great deal more appetizing than it
looked. Semi moist brown cubes with colorful pieces of cracker mixed in. It was
supposed to represent meat and vegetables and was marketed as a wholesome,
nutritious and complete diet for humans. It contained all the complex proteins,
carbohydrates, fibre, fat, vitamins, oils, minerals and whatnot they needed to
ensure good health, vitality, control weight and maintain skin, bright eyes,
brain function and shiny hair. Deaton had told Derek it was the best, easily
digested and took no preparation. There was no need to feed anything else, so
Derek didn't. It came in four delicious flavors, beef, chicken, pork and fish,
to prevent boredom. Actually it tasted dull and bland with very little flavor,
Derek had tried a mouthful and quickly spat it out, but it was better than the
other foods on the market. A thick porridge that was messy and necessitated
wiping the bitch's face every time they ate, which Derek wasn't prepared to do
and a hard, brown pellet whose only merits seemed to be to be it was a complete
food and kept teeth clean. It was high in fibre and fed dry, the bitches drank
a lot of water, toilet breaks were a frequent chore.
Today Ruby was having chicken and Derek tossed a couple of cubes to Bear who
snatched them from the air, looked disgusted and dropped them on the floor.
Derek shrugged, perhaps it tasted better to humans?
Derek walked to the kennel, slotted the bowl into the wire holder fastened to
the inside of the door, checked the water bottle and swung the door closed with
soft click. He flicked on one row of the florescent lighting and left Ruby with
her head buried in her bowl, eating. He'd come back in a few hours, let her out
to relieve herself and lock up for the night, for now he needed a shower and
then he had things to do and he and Bear left by the side door that led
straight into the house.
Derek fed Bear in the utility room putting a slab of raw venison from the
fridge into a bowl not dissimilar to Ruby's and slotting it into the raised
stainless steel feeding stand about a foot from the floor with the twin water
bowl already full and in place. The stand was designed to ease Bear's feeding
and drinking and help prevent the giant dog from getting bloat. Bear had a
rectangular dog bed in the utility room too, he slept in the house
occasionally, especially when Derek was between bitches and appreciated his
silent, unobtrusive company.
Derek left Bear eating and mounted the sweeping staircase to the second floor
and went along the hall to the master bedroom.
The bedroom was cavernous, dominated by a huge bed that could comfortably hold
four adults Derek's size, had multiple pillows, sheets and a thick comforter
folded halfway down the bed and covered in an exquisite pale, silk brocade with
a gold thread. The sheets and pillowcases were a bright, white linen. The fame
of the bed was a dark, heavy oak with integral, intricately carved head and
foot boards depicting wild animals on the headboard and foliage on the
footboard. Like the rest of the house the room was sparsely furnished in
expensive, functional furniture, oak nightstands with drawers and set with swan
necked lamps with Tiffany shades, and a leather bound first edition of
'Frankenstein -A Modern Prometheus' by Mary Shelley on the right. A long, low
oak dressing table without a mirror and long and short drawers, a comfortable
chair and an armoire pushed into one corner, the twin of the one in the
breeding room and a full-length, free standing oval cheval mirror in the other.
There were no shelves, pictures, photos or knickknacks anywhere, only a large
flat panel TV mounted on the wall opposite the foot of the bed, the remote
control on the left hand nightstand along with a clock with red LCD numerals.
There was a large walk in closet with a sliding door. The floor was the same
polished mahogany as the rest of the house save the gray slate tiles in the
kitchen and utility room and tiles in the wet room and covered with thickly
piled, luxurious rugs in vibrant designs.
Derek stopped briefly in the bedroom to toe off his boots and tug off his
socks, leaving them where they landed he padded naked and barefoot into the
bathroom.
The wet room was impressive and luxurious by any standards and one of Derek's
favorite rooms. The tiles on the walls were an off white, thinly veined with a
smokey gray thread, giving the impression of expensive marble, the color
reversed in the larger tiles on the floor. The vanity unit held two white
basins, his uncle Peter had joked Derek needed one for each hand, a cupboard
beneath for towels and bathing supplies and a mirrored cabinet above holding
Derek's saving gear, tooth brush, toothpaste and a clear plastic bathroom
glass. Derek was blessed with more than his fair share of testosterone, even
for an Alpha and his beard grew quickly, if he shaved completely in the morning
he had a thick growth of stubble by mid afternoon so he left his jaw covered in
short, dark stubble and just trimmed it. The shower was chrome , four multi
directional power heads directed the spray and glass shelves on the wall held
plethora of shampoos, conditioners, body washes, shower milk and body and hair
combinations, most non perfumed, or naturally perfumed.
The bath was white, oval shaped and free standing on lion pawed feet. It had a
soothing whirlpool option and glass corner shelf held bathing supplies similar
to those of the shower. The toilet had a seat and lid in white with the same
gray thread as the wall tiles. A heated towel rail, white ceiling, recessed
lighting and a wicker laundry basket in the farthest corner, finished the room.
Derek turned on the water, adjusted it to just this side of too hot, stepped
under the sprays and leaned for a while with his flat palms on the tile and
hissed as the hot water peppered his skin and ran in rivulets over his tightly
muscled body, relaxing tension and washing away the smell of sweat and sex down
the drains. He used a combination body and hair shampoo to save time, squeezing
a generous amount into his palm and then returning the bottle to the shelf
before he rubbed this hands together into a rich lather. Derek soaped his hair
and chest his hands roaming over his outrageously ripped body with brisk
efficiency, his thick biceps flexing as he moved to his washboard abs and
pectorals clenching a he lifted his hands to scrub at his hair. He turned his
attention to his cock, stroking the long, thick flesh and rolling his balls in
a soaped hand. He soaped his thighs, buttocks and legs and lifted each foot in
turn and then rinsed off thoroughly under the hot sprays.
When he finished Derek turned off the water and emerged in a fog of steam from
under the sprays. He dried using towels from the heated rail, rubbing at his
hair and tossing the used towels into the wicker basket and then cleaning his
teeth. Satisfied he was pristine, Derek finger combed his hair and padded into
the bedroom and scooped up his boots and socks, threw his socks in the laundry
and dropped his boots onto the shoe rack in the closet and retrieved a pair of
blue jeans from the hangar, a dark plum Henley from the neatly folded pile on
the shelf and a pair of sneakers from the rack and dressed in the bedroom. He
went commando, shimmied into the jeans and tugged the Henley over his head and
smoothed it down his torso, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows and leaving
the neck buttons undone. He sat on he bed and stamped his feet into his black
sneakers and laced them up, he didn't bother with socks.
Comfortable and relaxed took the stairs two at a time and went downstairs and
swung by the kitchen and took a can of beer from the fridge . He wasn't a big
drinker, a single beer at the end of the day, a glass of spirits on special
occasions and an infrequent bottle of wine with a special meal. The werewolf
community laced their alcohol lightly with wolfs bane and it was possible to
get drunk. Derek hadn't been drunk since he was eighteen and hated that feeling
of not being in control of himself and his surroundings. Derek popped the tab
on his can as he walked through the spacious living area and into the home
office, the same place as he had talked to Deucalion.
Like the rest of the house the home office was larger than average dominated by
Derek's oak desk with a black, executive swivel chair behind and a green,
leather high backed chair in front. One wall displayed the only photos apparent
in the house, of Derek's various bitches and the desk was set with a top-of-
the-range wide screen laptop, marketed as a desktop replacement a tablet, pen
holder and a contemporary desk lamp. There was a narrow floor to ceiling
bookshelf against one wall and beside it a three drawer, wooden filing cabinet
and a smokey glass fronted cabinet, holding Derek's own server and surmounted
with a color laser printer, against another wall and french windows behind
Derek's chair led straight out onto lawn. Each night the laptop backed up to
the server and to another external server housed in his uncle's house several
miles away in case of fire or some other disaster. Everything was wireless and
protected by the werewolves own Wolf Pack security system against hacking,
viruses etc.
Derek dropped into his chair, noting that it had grown dark outside and placed
the can on the shiny surface of the desk, condensation rolled down the side of
the chill can and pooled on the wood. Derek logged onto his computer and
transferred all the information from the tablet to the laptop and then opened
the file that held a template of a standard contract to email to Deucalion,
filling in the specifics and setting the price for his services at $225,000 and
estimated time for delivery at 6 - 9 months. He added the contract as an
attachment to a brief note and committed it to cyberspace. He picked up the can
of beer and took a long pull before setting it down . Next Derek accessed his
bank accounts to see if Alpha Tanner had deposited the $60,000 for Ruby and a
ghost of a smile appeared around his mouth when he saw it was there. He quickly
set about transferring $10,000 to Deaton's account for his services and when
he'd covered expenses, there would be a cool profit in the region of $35,000,
not bad for six week's not very had work.
Ruby had been an easy commission and not hard to train, the most difficult
aspect had been in finding a suitable boy in the first place, he didn't expect
any difficulty on that score with Deucalion's. Young, slender, dark haired and
eyed boys were easy enough to come by, but he expected a greater challenge in
the training especially given the extensive degree of modification the blond
Alpha wanted. Derek felt a vague thrill spiral through is body at the prospect
of a new bitch and he was ready for a challenge. He didn't get attached to the
bitches he trained, ambivalent about humans per-se he took care of them while
he had them and once they were gone, tended to forget about them. He never
considered them his and what happened to them once they left him was fate. Most
bitches stayed with their Alpha for twelve to fifteen years, led reasonable
lives and then were replaced with younger ones, humans aged so quickly and
tended to lose their looks and appeal. There was a robust secondhand market in
the sale to brothels and Alpha sex clubs where they weren't so fussy about age
and looks. A few were sold to less wealthy or picky Alphas and fewer still were
kept into old age by the Alpha who first bought them, but this was the
exception not the rule. Alpha Tanner was a bear of an Alpha, bulky rather than
muscled with a booming voice and jovial, mild mannered personality for an
Alpha, Ruby would likely have a good life.
Derek called up his list of contacts, humans who had access to boys aged
between 11 - 15 and not the kind of humans he wanted to associate with, not
that he wanted to associate with any save his bitches. They were a necessary
evil of his chosen profession and certainly not friends or colleagues, barely
acquaintances. They were pimps and Child Protection workers, one could pick up
runaways from bus stations and the streets and the other get boys away from
abusive, neglectful family and spirit them away into the bowels of the social
care system where they would be lost. He chose three that were most reliable,
two pimps and one protection worker and contacted them via the burner phone he
kept in the drawer of his desk specifically for this purpose and changed
monthly.
Derek might be being paranoid, but he liked the protection and anonymity it
gave him.
The calls were brief, Derek didn't do small talk or chit chat, he was abrupt
and to the point just relaying the description of the type of boy he was
looking for. Each was confident that they would have a suitable boy for him
within the next day or two, it wasn't a big ask. Derek finished his calls
feeling as though he needed another shower. It would probably have been easy
enough for him to obtain boys himself, but it was better this way. He hated
going to the city with its stink and crush of heaving humanity and this way he
kept visits to a minimum. The boys he got almost always had a history of
neglect, physical and or sexual abuse, brushes with the law and a history of
either drug or alcohol addiction, sometimes both and prostitution which helped
with their transformations and families who didn't care or had given up on
them. The boys wouldn't be missed, no-one was coming looking for them, not that
it mattered, once swallowed up by the werewolf community they would never be
seen again.
He dropped the cell back into the drawer, closed it and then leaned back
against he rear of the chair and raised his arms and stretched until his spine
popped and rolled his head and then leaned forward and plucked up his beer can,
reared back into his chair, tipped back his head and took several long pulls of
beer. Derek drained and crushed the can in his fist and dropped it into a waste
basket at his feet. He leaned forward, rest his elbows on the desk and decided
to do some online shopping.
It was more than an hour later that Derek checked out his basket at Drop Down
and Howl an online sex toy and BDSM supplier run and favored by werewolves. He
had replaced the items Ruby would take with her, her harness, pink collar,
douche and enema bulb, mitts, booties, butt plugs and bone-shaped gag. He had
spent time browsing various departments replacing and updating equipment he
already had, most notably a fucking machine and shock collar. He'd enjoyed
himself and spent far more than he intended, but he shrugged nonchalantly as he
checked out through the returning customer portal, entered bank card details
and chose next working day delivery.
 
The next morning Derek loaded Ruby into the cage in the back of the SUV and
they drove to their last appointment with Dr Deaton, his clinic was situated in
a quiet area of the town. She was given a clean bill of health and Deaton
issued the health certificate that would be given to Alpha Tanner and updated
her medical records. Her tracking chip in her shoulder was checked and working
and the 12mm microchip that would forever identify her, inserted beneath the
surface of her skin between the shoulder blades. The process was similar to a
routine shot, but the needle of necessity much bigger and it was not without
pain. Derek filled out all the registration forms with Alpha Tanner's details
and then they left.
The afternoon was spent running through all Ruby's training and Derek fucked
her one last time and then Bear had his turn.
That evening Derek went out to dinner with his uncle.
Early the following morning Alpha Tanner picked up Ruby and loaded her into a
cage in the back of his SUV and thanked Derek for all his hard work. Derek made
a parcel of all the items she was taking except of course her pink collar and
harness which she was wearing. He handed over the health certificate and an E-
reader pre-loaded with her medical records, training specifics, care tips and
dietary advice, some Alpha didn't like the inference that they didn't know how
to care for their bitch, but Tanner seemed grateful.
Ruby left without a backward glance at Derek and only confirmed what he already
knew, humans were disloyal, faithless creatures.
The afternoon was busy, spent cleaning out the kennel and all the training
equipment and making preparations for the new bitch. The items Derek had
ordered online arrived and he unpacked them and put them ready for use. He went
in the home office, made himself comfortable with can of beer and read the
instruction books with the new fucking machine and shock collar from cover to
cover. He'd just finished his beer and was leaning back in his chair, lax and
relaxed watching the mid afternoon sun slant across the floor and up the wall,
when his ears picked up the muffled ring of the burner phone in the desk
drawer. Derek quickly retrieved it and pressed it to his ear.
"Hale."
"Hi Mr Aitch, it's Leon."
At recognition of the pimp's whiny voice Derek leant into his elbows on his
desk.
"Yes."
"I think I have a suitable boy for you."
"Specifics."
" I picked him up last week at the bus station, a runway, fourteen, brunette,
five nine, ten, slight build, eyes the color of Jack Daniel's Sour Mash, pretty
but not too feminine, good ass and mouth."
On the face of it the boy sounded what Derek was looking for. "I need to see
him."
"No problem Sir, when?"
Derek glanced at his watch, 3.35 plenty of time for him to get ready and drive
the 100 or so miles to the city. "Tonight." He didn't want to waste any time,
especially if the boy didn't fit the bill. "Nine O'clock, I'll meet you at the
usual place, make sure the boy is there and don't be late."
"We'll be there, bring the cash."
"Don't tell me what to do Leon," Derek's voice hardened ruthlessly with a
growl, "you'll get the money if I like the boy." Derek picked up on the surge
in Leon's heartbeat.
The pimp whined and an oily tone crept into his voice. "Sorry Mr Aitch I didn't
mean no disrespect." Derek grunted. "I've got a dealer breathing down my neck
and I need the money."
Derek gave a disgusted snort. "Your problems are nothing to do with me and I
don't want to hear about them. " He bit out. "Just make sure your there, don't
make me have to come looking for you Leon." Derek said, a threat inherent in
his chilled tone.
Derek didn't give Leon time to respond and ended the call. He grazed the burner
phone against his bottom lip lost in thought, what was the boy like? He'd find
out soon enough...
***** In With The New *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings: Prostitution Implied, Non-Con Drug Administration, Needles,
     Kidnapping, Non-Con Intimate Touching.
Derek had a routine for going to the city to inspect or pick up boys, it
involved muting his Satanic good looks and serial killer vibe. It was far
easier to persuade a boy to get into his car of their own free will, than it
was to bundle someone struggling and screaming off the street, once in the car
they were at Derek's mercy.
Derek was all for unobtrusive simplicity.
He opened the drawer of his desk and dropped his cell inside and shut it, then
pushed up out of his chair and stretched like a lazy dog. He ambled toward the
stairs to get ready for his performance, his body humming with low level
anticipation.
The first thing Derek did was stroll into the bathroom and take a shave,
removing all his dark stubble and revealing a small cleft in his lean, square
jaw. He quickly skimmed out of the jeans and wife beater he was wearing and
tossed them into the laundry basket, contemplated a shower and decided it
wasn't necessary. In the bedroom he pulled items of clothing from the closet
and a pair of tan loafers. The dockers were a light khaki and loose fitting,
not Derek's preferred style of pants at all and the shirt a nondescript, plain
white cotton blend which he left unfastened at the neck.
Derek wasn't wearing a tie unless he absolutelyhad to.
He threaded a narrow, brown belt through the loops of his dockers around his
slender waist and buckled up.
Sitting on the end of the bed he pushed his feet into the loafers, their feel
foreign to him compared to the light boots or sneakers he usually wore. Derek
gazed at his reflection in the cheval mirror and combed his hair using a little
product to give himself a side parting and persuading his black hair to lie
across his head rather than his usual swept back style. He completed his
transformation with a pair of dark rimmed spectacles with clear glass in place
of lenses, they framed his compelling green eyes and helped disguise his wide
masculine brows. He finished his new look by plucking a Dean jacket from the
bed and shrugging it on, the cotton fabric the same khaki as his pants, a
couple of side pockets, a heavy brass zip and tab collar. Derek looked at
himself critically in the mirror and adjusted his spectacles.
The man whose reflection stared back at him from the mirror, seemed alien. His
muscular build was disguised by the loose fitting clothes, gone was the serial
killer vibe to be replaced by something softer more befitting an office worker
or middle management, Clark Kent rather than his alter ego. Derek looked
younger, his face gentled by the spectacles and more studious even nerdy,
certainly not threatening. Satisfied he'd achieved what he intended, Derek
glanced at his watch and moved on.
He plucked a set of car keys from the dressing table and bounded down the
stairs two at a time, beginning to feel the spiral of excitement he always felt
at the prospect of a new canvas on which to work his magic. He went straight to
the home office and swung the bookcase from the wall, the safe was situated
about halfway up in the wall behind. It was electronic and worked though a
keypad and biometric retinal recongnition scanner. Derek keyed in the number
and then stared into the small, rectangular scanner, a red beam crossed his eye
and the safe unlocked with a soft hiss. The money was already counted out into
one thousand dollar bundles and he took out five and placed them into a
spacious inside pocket of his jacket and left the rest of the money untouched.
He closed the safe and pushed back the bookcase. He went through the house
quickly and into the bitch bock and wasted no time going to one of the doors
which he normally kept closed, opening and passing through it.
Behind the door lay a large, fully functional medical room, an examination
table as well as a gurney and hydraulic medical chair and a gyn table all
fitted with restraints and a Jacuzzi in the corner with suspension overhead for
hydro- therapy. The instrument table, shelves and glass fronted cupboards
filled with medical instruments, drugs, syringes and needles of various sizes,
medical dressings, salves, medicines, potions, pills, ointments as well as an
autoclave for sterilization of equipment on the counter, dilators, speculums
and other fun toys. There was a sink, padded stool and rolling stand with a
large, adjustable, mobile LCD medical examination light and a door in the wall
gave access directly into the single bed hospital room.
He crossed quickly to one of the glass fronted cupboards on the wall above the
counter and took out a couple of round, squat, glass bottles containing a
sedative, two syringes and fine gauge needles. Derek assembled the syringes and
picked up a bottle, turned it upside down, pierced the top with the fine needle
and drew the sedative down into the syringe and repeated the same process with
the other. Concocted by Deaton, the sedative was profoundly and quick acting,
long-lasting without the reversal drug...
Its safety was within acceptable limits.
Derek squirted a little sedative from each syringe to get rid of any air and
capped the needles off and lay them lengthwise in an oblong case and pushed it
into the inner pocket of his jacket, the opposite one to the one the money was
in and he was ready to go.
Derek left the block by the side door that led straight outside but he didn't
head toward the garage, instead he strode with a loose gait around to a piece
of hard standing at the rear of the house and took the cover off a car standing
there. The car uncovered was a 2013 Ford Focus sedan, an unremarkable basic
model in white with tinted windows. Derek only used the car to go to the city,
it fitted with his assumed persona far better than the sleek, black Camaro of
even the Mercedes SUV. He unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel, a few
minutes later Derek was driving away from the house in the early evening
sunshine.
Derek's house was situated in the country suburbs of Wolf Creek a major
werewolf town some twenty minutes in one direction and his nearest neighbor his
uncle Peter, owned Hale Kennels, Breeding and Boarding ten minutes the other.
There was no-one to bother him and Derek enjoyed the self imposed seclusion and
visited the town and his uncle as and when the mood struck him. The road from
the house twisted and turned, meandered through thickly wooded countryside, the
arms of the trees frequently extending over the road and providing nature's
vaulted ceiling. Several miles on, the countryside opened out into verdant
fields, shrubs, bushes and small woodland copses and thorny hedgerows before
giving way to the roaring traffic on a six lane highway that led directly to
the city just over a hundred miles distant. The city was the only serious
concentration of human existence for two hundred miles or so. Derek hit the
access ramp and accelerated steadily checking his mirrors and merged seamlessly
into the nearest lane and settled back, driving toward the city at a steady 70.
It was about an hour before Derek hit the boarder of werewolf held and
administered territory, it wasn't a physical boarder but Derek felt a tremor
pass through his body as he crossed it.
It was dark by the time Derek reached the outskirts of the city, he'd already
turned on his headlights and progress slowed as he hit traffic and began to
drive downtown. Despite his infrequent visits Derek knew the city well, was
familiar with it's layout and hated the place. It was hard for him to breathe,
the air was thick and congested with the stink and detritus of humanity. Humans
milled, pushed and crowded like herds of cattle, space was at a premium. What
others saw as sharp and edgy, dazzling bright lights everywhere, food carts on
street corners steaming and emitting a fusion of delicious aromas, his wolf saw
as a confusion of color, cacophony of sound and a sensory overload of pungent
smells.
Derek drove until he reached the seedy area of downtown he sought. He knew he'd
arrived from the cracked, uneven sidewalks, the garbage cans, the kaleidoscope
of gaudy neon lights of the clubs and strip joints that both offended and hurt
his eyes, the grim tenements, narrow, dark, garbage strewn alleys, cheap hotels
that rented rooms by the hour and run down houses. Restaurants rubbed shoulders
with tattoo and massage parlors, grim take out joints and dumpster's. It never
ceased to amaze Derek that some werewolves actually lived in the city, but they
did and thrived there. They were an active part, along with other preternatural
creatures of the fetid underbelly; drugs, prostitution, gambling, human
trafficking, extortion, murder, slavery and protection. On every corner
flamboyant rent boys and hookers gathered, working and jealously guarding their
pitches, a lot of them well below the age of consent and freely keeping company
with pimps and drug dealers.
Derek reached the designated meeting place and pulled into the curb just beyond
the orange, shadowless glow of a streetlight slanting across the sidewalk and
parked up, turning off his lights. A fishy piece of moon scuttled behind the
buildings and across the street another lamp pushed at the gloom of the sad,
gray city. A small knot of rent boys and hookers gathered in the light from the
lamp or walked up and down blatantly displaying their bodies. Derek glanced at
his watch 8.46, fourteen minutes before Leon was supposed to arrive with the
boy. Derek unfastened his seatbelt and settled back to wait, his fingers
drumming idly on the steering wheel displaying his mounting impatience.
Suppose the boy was here already? one of those under the streetlight across the
street. Derek's eyes narrowed behind the clear glass of his spectacles and he
looked critically at each boy in turn, dismissing out- of- hand those who
weren't brunettes or looked too old. There were a couple of boys left, both
dark haired and one taller than the other. The shorter boy had a buzz cut, very
slender, probably underweight and that wasn't unusual in these boys either
through poor diet or drugs. Every few minutes a car slowed by the group and
stopped. One of the whores was gestured over and would push their heads inside
a hastily lowered window and negotiations were held, either they concluded
successfully or the car drove away amid jeers and cat calls. If they were
successful the car parked up in a nearby alley for a blow or hand job, if
something else were negotiated, they drove a short way down the street and
parked in the lot of a dingy hotel with a flickering neon sign offering rooms
to rent by the hour and the hooker or rent boy walked the short distance to the
waiting John.
No-one got into the cars.
Twice cars stopped and gestured to buzz cut but he stayed where he was with a
shake of his head and another boy took his place.
Derek wondered at the boy's behavior, perhaps he was waiting for something or
someone? He was so lost in thought watching the scene across the street that
Derek actually started when a sharp rap came on the passenger window, he
scowled, ducked his head and peered through the side window and saw that it was
Leon. Somewhat irritated, Derek released the door and it was yanked open and
the skinny pimp slid onto the seat in a fug of drugs and poor hygiene. It
offended Derek's olfactory senses and he wrinkled his nose in disgust.
The werewolf made a mental note to fumigate the car.
"Evening Mr Aitch," Leon greeted Derek in the wheezing voice of a heavy smoker,
"I'm dead on time." A sour grin split his thin face like a slash of a knife and
a gold tooth flashed at Derek.
The Alpha cast Leon a sideways glance. "What do you want, a fucking medal?" He
asked with an impatient growl.
"I know your a busy man." Leon wheedled picking up on Derek's impatient tone,
his nervousness betrayed by his bouncing leg and the sour smell of underarm
perspiration.
"Where's the boy?
"He's already here," Leon turned and gestured through the side window with his
ring cluttered hand, "that's him sat on the wall."
Derek followed Leon's gesture to the boy with the buzz cut who was sitting on a
low wall swinging his legs and watching the whores strut their stuff, Derek was
right he was waiting for someone, him. He squinted, assessing the boy from a
distance and judging if it was worth his while taking a closer look.
"You have two minutes to tell me his story." Derek's voice rumbled.
"I picked him up at the bus station about ten days ago, "Leon's speech was
rapid, words tripping over themselves in his haste, "said his name's something
foreign, calls himself Stiles. A runaway, mom died when he was a kid, old man
climbed into a bottle and hasn't climbed out since, no other relatives. His old
man used him as a punch bag since he was nine, started pimping the kid's ass
out to his friends for booze money about a year ago. Kid started to pocket some
of the money from the John's, old man found out. Kid hid until his dad passed
out in a drunken stupor, then he took what he could carry in a holdall, all the
cash he could find and spilt. Bummed a lift, hopped a Greyhound and ended up
here." Leon's eyes slithered sideways to Derek's face silhouetted in profile.
"I put him up with a couple of my older boys to keep an eye on him, no-one's
coming looking, don't worry about that."
Derek snorted, he wasn't worried. "Age?"
"Says he's sixteen but I don't peg him for a day over fourteen." Leon replied
watching Derek's mouth shift into a moue of thought. "Cute looking, big eyes
and pale skin," he encouraged, "bit mouthy but I figured you wouldn't mind
that."
A ghost of a smile played around Derek's mouth, no he wouldn't mind that at
all. "Is he clean, any disease?" He'd soon break the boy of any addiction and
disease couldn't be passed on to a werewolf, but it took time and treatment for
something like AIDS was expensive and not worth the bother.
"His test came back clear and he's clean."
A week or two more and Derek knew Leon would have him hooked on drugs.
He thought for a moment and then shifted in his seat. "I'll take a look at
him." Leon let out the breath he'd been holding, he really needed the money the
boy would fetch. "If I think he'll suit my purpose, we'll bring him back to the
car and you'll get your money. If not..." Derek shrugged dismissively.
Leon's sharp, ratty features eased into a broad, slightly manic grin and he
swiped his straight, light brown hair from his eyes. "You'll love him Mr Aitch
, you'll see." He wheezed enthusiastically.
Derek ignored the pimp, a poisonous, bloodless individual with poor personal
hygiene and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the case
containing the syringes. Leon fixed his black, currant eyes on the werewolf and
watched as Derek lifted a syringe from the case and dropped it into the outer
pocket of his jacket and then replaced the case.
"Let's get this show on the road." Derek muttered raising his head...
Seconds later Derek and Leon crossed the street.
The whores saw them coming, Leon they recognized and dismissed, Derek they
didn't. A red head caught a good look at Derek and preened visibly, pushing out
her breasts and showing off her undeniably attractive body in a skirt that
looked more like a belt. Derek cringed and adjusted his spectacles nervously
with a quickly forced smile, it only encouraged her to try twice as hard and
those near her to join in. Eyes raked the werewolf's body hungrily and smiles
turned salacious, rent boys simpered and pushed their crotches out toward him
and canted their hips. Hookers batted their eyelashes, sucked their fingers
provocatively and pushed their ample and barely covered tits in his face.
"Back off," Leon growled with a dark scowl and added, "he's not interested."
When one whore tried to touch him, Derek's fake persona slipped and he gave her
a glance so disdainfully dismissive, unimpressed and with eyes like flint that
she recoiled and quickly stepped back her hand lifted to her throat. The rest
muttered and grumbled under their breath as Leon glared at them and then turned
to the boy on the wall.
Stiles had watched Leon's approach with interest, he'd been told to come to his
pitch and wait until the pimp arrived with a John. The guy was a valued
customer and paid well to spend few hours with a slut like Stiles, but he had a
couple of quirks, nothing to worry about. Leon called him over with an
impatient gesture of his hand and Stiles hopped down from the wall and took his
time strolling over, his youthful, impish face schooled into a look of boredom
and sullen disinterest, hands pushed deeply into the pockets of his low slung
jeans.
Derek quietly assessed the boy from behind his spectacles as he approached and
kept his arms folded loosely over his chest, shoulders rounded and slightly
stooped to appear less intimidating. The boy's limbs were disproportionately
long compared to his body, he was slender and yet his face still had the
telltale roundness of youth and he was yet to grow a beard.
Leon was right, nearer to fourteen than sixteen.
He had a wary, cautious look about him, his heart rate was elevated and hands
clammy. The boy had some self-preservation skills and intelligence shone in the
depths of his sour mash colored eyes. He wouldn't be easily fooled into coming
along with him.
"Stiles," Leon's hand curled around the pale, creamy skin of the boy's forearm
and he pulled him closer and dropped his voice, "this is the gentleman I told
you about, say hello."
"Hi." Stiles eyes strolled over Derek appreciatively. The guy was nice looking,
handsome if he got rid of the nerdy spectacles and at least he was clean,
wasn't middle aged with dirty fingernails, a beer belly and B.O.
"Good evening Stiles," Derek kept his voice deliberately soft and low and
smiled weakly, "good to meet you." He unfurled is arms and pushed out his right
hand. Derek's hand was big, strong, with long elegantly broad fingers without
the betrayal of lighter skin where a wedding band would be . For a moment
Stiles eyes swept down and he stared at it as if it was a foreign object and he
didn't know what to do with it. Derek waited admiring the way the boy's lids
dropped over his eyes. At length Stiles pushed his smaller, slender hand into
Derek's and the werewolf gripped lightly and they shook. The boy's shake was
strong but his hand fragile compared to the Alpha, his fingers long and slim,
artistic. Derek released his hold and Stiles hand fell to his side. "I hope
we're going to be friends."
Friends? Stiles blinked a him, was this guy for real? He wanted to fuck him and
Stiles would likely let him for the right price, there was no friendship
involved or necessary, it was a simple if sordid business transaction.
"Yeah friends. Whatever." Stiles said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Your going to go along to his place, spend a few hours and he'll see you get
back here when your through." Leon instructed.
Stiles eyes bounced between Leon and Derek and back. "No offense but I'd rather
not go to his place." He murmured cautiously.
Leon's fingers bit into Stiles arm and he stepped into his personal space until
their chests brushed. "Listen to me slut," he hissed at him between clenched
teeth and Stiles recoiled from his bad breath, "I don't give a fuck what you
want, what don't you understand about our arrangement? You do as I say, go
where and with anyone I tell you to."
Stiles eyes slithered to Derek standing behind Leon and then to Leon's face and
he whispered. "I don't know him, I don't know what he's going to do, I could
get kil..."
Leon's voice hardened ruthlessly. "I know him and that's all you need to know."
"But.."
Leon looked perilously close to back handing the boy when Derek's hand landed
on the pimp's shoulder, he had of course heard every word.
"I quite understand the young man's reticence in coming with me, he doesn't
know me and I don't blame him for being wary, but seriously Stiles, do I look
like a serial killer to you?" Derek made an open handed gesture to himself.
"I'm quite harmless I assure you." He added mildly with a smile that didn't
reach his eyes.
"I'm sure you are," Stiles muttered hastily, his tone apologetic, "and it's not
that I don't want to," his eyes flicked to Leon, "I'm not trying to be awkward
but there's a hotel down the street, we could go there, the rooms aren't
expensive."
Derek's hand slid off Leon's shoulder. "I'm afraid that won't do." He said
regretfully. "I have a mild case of OCD, I don't frequent hotels, public rest
rooms or restaurants. One can never rely on their standards of cleanliness."
Stiles could sympathize, that was certainly true of the hotel, it was the kind
of place where you cleaned the sole of your shoes coming out.
"Those are the quirks I told you about." Leon hissed in Stiles ear. "The guy's
okay."
Stiles cheeks flushed with heat.
Derek's patience was growing thin, it was time to see if the boy would come
with him or not. "If Stiles doesn't want to come with me I'm certainly not
going to force the issue."
Leon's eyes darted nervously over the few whores who were showing a mild
interest in what was going on.
"It's a great pity though," Derek gave a resigned sigh, "I like you Stiles and
I think we'd have had a good time, maybe even become a regular item." He turned
away.
"Do you hear that?" Leon hissed tightening his grip.
Stiles eyes flew to Derek. "Okay, okay," Leon eased his grip, "I suppose it'll
be all right."
Derek turned back and smiled. "Good, I really like you Stiles, I hope you'll
like me."
A scowl crossed Stiles face. "Is it far?"
"Excuse me?"
"To your apartment." Stiles prompted.
"No not far," Derek answered with a decisive nod of his head, "but it's a house
not an apartment."
Stiles eyes widened, the guy must be loaded to own a house in the city.
"My car's over there." Derek gestured vaguely across the street with his chin.
Stiles gaze followed the gesture to the car parked just beyond the street lamp.
"Okay, let's go." Once he'd made his mind up Stiles was eager to get on with it
before his common sense kicked in.
 
Derek led the way over the road, Leon released Stiles arm and the boy fell into
step beside Derek and Leon brought up the rear.
"What do you want me to call you?" Stiles asked as they walked.
"Derek, call me Derek." The werewolf had no problem telling Stiles his name, it
wasn't as if he was going to be in position to tell anyone else.
"Derek," the name rolled off Stiles tongue with mild skepticism.
"It's my real name." Derek emphasized.
"Whatever." Stiles replied off-handedly.
Derek drew to a halt at the passenger side the white sedan. "Things will go
much easier if you believe what I tell you." He said in a smooth, insistent
voice.
"Nice car." Stiles answered.
Derek hid his smile, clearly the boy was going to be more of a challenge than
Ruby had been. He pressed his key fob and the central locking released the
doors with a click. "The door's unlocked," he prompted the boy, "get in."
Stiles grasped the door handle and the door opened easily and he slid onto the
passenger seat amid a flurry of arms and legs, Derek shut the door firmly
behind him.
The werewolf turned his back to the car and pulled the wad of notes from his
inside pocket and pressed them into Leon's outstretched grasping hand.
"Thirty pieces of silver." He muttered.
Leon's brow creased. "Huh?"
"Five thousand dollars." Derek clarified, clearly Leon and The Bible were
strangers.
"Thanks Mr Aitch." Leon stuffed the money into the pocket of his tatty jacket
without counting it. "Great doing business with you."
"Always a pleasure." Derek answered in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
Leon pivoted to cross back over the street. "Good luck with him." He tossed
casually over his shoulder as he jogged through a gap in the traffic.
Derek watched the narrow shoulders of the pimp's retreating back with a frisson
of irritation. He didn't believe in luck he achieved what he did through skill,
attention to detail and sheer determination. Any luck he made himself.
Derek pushed off from the car and circled around to the driver's door, opened
it and slid gracefully behind the wheel and closed the door behind him. Stiles
looked at him.
"You took your time."
Derek lifted his eyes. "I was paying Leon." He said truthfully.
"Oh." Stiles fell silent for a moment. "Nice car." He commented at length and
then gazed straight ahead.
Derek reached into his pocket and flipped the top off the needle of the syringe
with his thumb nail. "You should fasten your seatbelt."
Stiles blinked at him.
"Safety first." Derek added with a weak smile.
Stiles rolled his eyes and reached across his body for the strap. This was the
distraction Derek had been waiting for.
"Let me help you." Derek leaned toward Stiles and clicked the strap into the
holder securely and flicked the trigger that locked it in place, the boy was
bound to the seat by the belt. The first Stiles knew anything was amiss was the
sharp jab of the needle into his thigh. He yelped and looked down and saw the
syringe in Derek's hand. His heart rate soared and a look of panic crossed his
face.
"What the fuck! Get away from me! " He pushed at Derek knocking the empty
syringe from his hand to the foot well between his feet. "Keep away from me you
fucker!" His voice shrill and piercing.
Derek remained remarkably calm while the boy panicked and scrabbled at he belt
trying to get it unfastened and when he couldn't he ignored Derek and tried to
open first the door and then beat on the side window with his clenched fists.
"Help! Leon help!" Stiles implored shrilly, beating frantically against the
glass.
Derek counted silently back from ten and watched the boy's efforts to escape
grow weaker and weaker, by the time he reached four Stiles was silent and still
hanging lax in the seatbelt. Derek reached down and scooped up the empty
syringe and put it in the case beside the full one, he could just toss it from
the window, but no sense in leaving evidence not that there was likely to be a
crime reported. He cast a side glance at the boy, able to see him perfectly
well in the dim interior of the car. He was more Derek's taste than Ruby had
been and he had a smattering of dark moles littering his creamy skin. The
werewolf wondered if they extended over the rest of his body, he guessed he's
soon find out. Derek liked the moles, they intrigued him but Deucalion might
not and he'd reject the boy, Derek hoped not it'd be a shame if he had to
dispose of him, not to mention the five thousand, although he could find some
way to add that to Deucalion's bill.
 
Driving out of the city was a great deal easier and quicker than driving in and
soon Derek reached the outskirts and settled back to driving on the six lane
highway. He shot the unconscious boy the odd look as he slumped in the seat,
hanging limp and slack in the seat his head lolling and chin resting on his
chest. Some thirty miles distant from the city they crossed the boarder into
werewolf territory and unconsciously Derek relaxed, his grip on the wheel
loosened and the tension left his shoulders and he drove on automatic pilot
until the exit ramp which took him off the highway and onto the roads that led
back to the house.
Just under two hours later Derek rolled to a stop on the gravel outside the
bitch block. He got out of the car and stretched his arms over his head and
pulled his spine taut until the bones cracked. He rounded the hood and went to
the external door and unlocked it keying in the number combination on the
numerical pad and looking into the small screen for the retinal scan, just like
the safe. The door released with a click and Derek pushed it open, Bear's
booming bark sounding all the while from his kennel. He opened the car's
passenger door and leaned in arching over Stiles body and releasing him from
the seatbelt.
Stiles didn't stir as Derek man handled him from the car, the werewolf stooped
down and his strong arm curled around the back of the boy's thighs and he was
thrown like a sack of potatoes over the Alpha's shoulder. Stiles head bounced
against Derek's broad back and his arms dangled as he strode the few steps into
the block and flicked on the fluorescent lights and back heeled the door shut.
Inside Derek crossed to the open door of the kennel, carried Stiles inside and
deposited him on the floor sliding him carefully from his shoulder.
Derek tilted upright and gazed at the boy's recumbent body, stepping back to
admire him. Derek removed his ridiculous spectacles and slipped them into his
breast pocket. Under the light he was able to assess the boy better, better
still when he had stripped him. He started at Stiles feet taking off his
sneakers and socks tossing them into a careless pile. The rest of Stiles
clothes Derek shredded with his claws, too impatient to bother with buttons and
zips and tossed the rags onto the pile.
It wasn't as though the boy would ever need them again.
On closer inspection the boy's clothes were poor quality, patched and
threadbare. Really Derek was doing him a favor getting him out of the life that
lay ahead of him and setting him on a new and shiny path. True he was going to
be little more than a sex slave, a bitch, but he'd get fed, bathed, have a warm
place to sleep and medical attention when he needed it and he wouldn't be
forced to take drugs and some Alphas grew quite fond and possessive of their
bitches. As for the body modifications he'd soon get used to them, they were
after all for his own good. His training would be as simple or as difficult as
Stiles made it.
Derek felt the familiar thrill of discovery hum through his veins as inch by
inch the boy's body was uncovered, his satin skin luminescent under the
artificial light. His eyes raked the boy's naked body and devoured him hungrily
from his short, sable hair to his long toes, appreciative and critical. The boy
had long, lean muscle but he was underweight, his ribs showing and the angular
points of his hips and collar bone. Derek made a note to give an extra midday
feeding until his ideal weight was reached. His body hair had just begun to
grow in, wisps of dark hair on his chest, at his groin and underarms and fine
hair on his arms and legs. Castration and Deaton's hormone implant would deal
with that, soften his sharp angles and give him juvenile breasts to compliment
his dusky pink nipples.
Derek bobbed down and ran the tips of his fingers over Stiles silky skin, the
moles extending over his body. His hand swept down in a long stroke over Stiles
chest, trailed down his abdomen and flat stomach to his groin. Derek's fingers
curled around the plump, pink cock, shorter than his own resting against a
milky thigh. He brushed his thumb over the broad head and felt the cock twitch
against his palm. It was pretty, the balls beneath a darker hue, hairless,
nicely shaped, it was almost a shame he was going to lose them, but wasn't as
if he'd ever need them.
Derek raised his eyes up the length of his body to Stiles face. He was pretty
but not feminine with a snub, slightly upturned nose above a generous mouth
with plump, pink lips. Long, dark eyelashes rested in a fan against pale cheeks
with the faintest flush of pink and surmounted by sculptured brows. Derek
turned him over and ran his hand down the knots of Stiles spine to the round
globes of his ass, kneading and stroking the firm, young flesh. He pulled his
buttocks apart and inspected the tightly furled entrance to is body, a dusky
rosebud waiting to open. He rimmed it gently with his thumb. "Soon." He
murmured under his breath and sat back his hand curling around the boy's hip
and shifting him onto his side and stroking gently.
All in all Derek was pleased with his choice, but the final approval was
Deucalion's.
The werewolf sat back on his haunches, pulled the case of syringes from his
pocket and set it on the floor and flipped the lid, taking out the full syringe
and tapping it with his index finger before he uncapped the needle. He jabbed
the boy's thigh again and pressed the plunger emptying the sedative into the
unconscious boy. He plucked the case from the ground and pushed to his feet,
replacing the spent syringe with the other to be disposed of in the incinerator
along with what was left of Stiles clothes.The sedation would last until after
Deuclion had seen him in the morning and the boy would be woozy and
disorientated for most of the day which was probably just as well.
Derek swept up the tatters of Stiles clothes and sneakers and held them balled
into one hand as he shut the kennel door with one last, lingering look at the
boy inside. He hoped Deucalion approved him, he had a feeling he'd be lots of
fun...
***** Stiles *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Wrist Mitts, Ankle Bootees, Thigh Cuffs, Harness, Gag, Knee
     Protectors, Nudity, Mild Violence, Restraint, Non-Con Sexual
     Touching, Non-Sexual Voyeurism.
      
     A/N Apologies for the late post. I had to replace my laptop last week
     and set up the new one.
Derek left the block via the outside door after dimming the lighting and
shutting the door behind him. He stalked along the path to the large, brick
built incinerator he kept for disposing of this and that, opened the heavy iron
door and tossed what remained of Stiles belongings and the spent syringes
inside.
Stiles, what the fuck kind of name was that anyway? The bitch would get a new
and more fitting name of course, but it was up to Deucalion to decide what it
was. Thinking about Deucalion, the Alpha needed to be made aware that he had
secured a likely boy. His eyes darted to his wrist watch, a few minutes past
midnight- Derek grunted. Time had little significance for werewolves, perhaps
because of their longevity but night or day it really didn't matter and
Deucalion wouldn't appreciate delay in being informed about the boy and Derek
needed his approval before he went any further. If Deucalion refused to approve
the boy, unlikely but possible, he would need to dispose of him immediately and
Derek would rather do that before the boy awoke, it waskinder and less hassle.
Surprisingly, Derek was not cruel for its own sake, not often anyway. His brand
of cruelty had a method and a purpose, he didn't shrink from causing pain but
didn't take excessive pleasure from it, that's not to say he didn't enjoy it
but he knew when to stop. He wasn't blessed with an overabundance of patience,
but had enough control to walk away and come back when he was calmer, a lot of
Alphas didn't. The boy had done nothing to him, he deserved to meet his end
quickly,oblivious to what was about to happen and he would administer the
killing blow cleanly.
Derek pressed the large, round red button and the gas fired incinerator ignited
and roared into life, in moments the boy's history would be obliterated. Derek
turned away and left the incinerator running, he might need it later. He got
into the car and drove it out of sight around the side of the house and quickly
covered it, he needed to get it detailed before he drove it again. Leon's
pungent scent lingered.
Once inside the house Derek pulled his smartphone from his pocket and logged
onto the feed from the bitch block. The unobtrusive camera was sent up just
above the flat panel and pointed directly into the bitch's kennel, Stiles was
exactly as he'd left him, laid on the floor on his left side. Satisfied, Derek
dialed Deucalion and it rang twice before being answered.
"Derek." Deucalion's greeting was sharp but not unfriendly, there were noises
and voices in the background.
Derek was un-phased that the Alpha knew it was him, he'd have been more
surprised if he hadn't. "Good evening Alpha, I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
His voice was schooled into cool politeness.
"You are," Derek heard the ambient background noise become muffled, changed and
knew he'd stepped away from wherever he was, "there again it would be difficult
not to disturb someone as busy as I am." Deucalion paused a moment. "I'm sure
it's important."
Derek was aware of Deucalion's patronizing tone, but it really didn't matter,
after all he was paying handsomely for the privilege. "I have a boy I think you
will like."
Derek smiled grimly at Deucalion's inhaled breath. "Really, so soon?"
"It wasn't a big ask," Derek shrugged and although the Alpha couldn't see him
he was sure he heard it in his voice, "I need you to come and take a look at
him before I go any further." He continued.
"Yes, of course." The sound became muffled as though Deucalion had covered the
mouthpiece with his hand, Derek knew the Alpha was speaking to someone and then
the sound came back clearly. "I'll be there with you in an hour."
A small smile played around Derek's mouth at Deucalion's assumption it was
convenient and he was tempted to say it wasn't, but $225,000 was worth a bit of
inconvenience. "We'll be waiting. Did you get the contract I emailed?"
"Yes."
"Bring it with you, it'll save time. If you like the boy you can sign it and
I'll get to work." Derek said without inflection.
"Very well," Deucalion answered in a cool tone, not used to being told what to
do, "I'll be there in an hour."
The call was ended before Derek had a chance to reply. He held the phone in his
hand for a moment and looked at it with a raised brow, clearly dealing with
Deucalion wasn't going to be easy. Finally Derek tossed the phone lightly onto
the coffee table, he had an hour to prepare.
He despertely needed a shower and change of clothes to rid himself of the
grubby feeling he had just from being near Leon and he needed some strong,
black coffee. He strolled into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee and left
it whilst he bounded upstairs for quick, hot shower. He shed his jacket as he
walked through his bedroom, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair, he
skimmed out of the rest of his clothes in the bathroom and threw them straight
into the laundry basket, unsure if he'd wash or burn them.
Derek adjusted the water until the spray was needle sharp peppering his skin
and has hot as he could stand. It was abrasive and cathartic, a psychological
cleansing as well as a physical one. He scrubbed at his skin with lathered
hands, ridding himself of any of Leon's contamination, washed his hair and
rinsed thoroughly all with quick, clinical efficiency and detachment, after
which he felt better and his skin glowed hotly red. Derek stepped from the
shower and toweled himself dry and grabbing a smaller towel, strode into the
bedroom rubbing at his damp hair.
He dressed in worn blue jeans and wedged his torso into a grey T shirt that
strained a little across his muscular chest and around his biceps. Scuffed and
worn lightweight black boots finished his outfit and he finger combed his hair
into his usual style. Back in the kitchen Derek slid his ass onto a tall stool
and sat at the granite topped breakfast bar and poured himself a mug of strong,
aromatic, black coffee and waited for Deucalion.
Derek sipped his coffee and got lost in thoughts about the new bitch; how he
would proceed with 'training', what she would look like in her collar and
harness, the creamy paleness of her skin, her upturned nose, generous mouth and
what it would feel like around his cock, how much better she would look when
her hair grew out, thick and shaggy. There was something special about this one
and he'd have to fight his own battle of personal restraint. Derek was hurtled
back to reality by Bear's booming bark from his kennel and his own
preternatural hearing picked up a distant car turning off the road onto the
gravel drive.
Derek set down his mug on the counter and rose from the stool and strode
purposefully through the house to the door to the bitch block, unlocked it and
stepped through closing it behind him. In the dim lighting it was easy for him
to make out the shape of the bitch still laid on the floor of the kennel. He
crossed to the outer door and turned up the lighting before unlocking the door
and casting it open. Pale light spilled out onto the path and slanted across
the drive as Derek stood silhouetted in the doorway. The headlights from
Deucalion's black limousine picked out the shrubs and trees that boarded the
drive as it followed its curve past the front door of the house and rolled to a
stop opposite Derek. Ennis hurriedly got out and opened the rear door with a
flourish. Deucaion's legs swung out and he tipped upright with one, fluid
movement and took a single step away from the car. He was casually dressed in
dark, tailored slacks, a dark Henley and wearing a brown, suede jacket.
"Wait here for me Ennis." He said easily before striding to where Derek was
waiting.
Ennis gave Derek a withering glance and despite the animosity radiating from
the tall muscle bound Alpha, Derek's face remained an unfathomable mask of
indifference. Ennis tipped his head in reluctant acknowledgement.
"Alpha."
Derek pushed his hand out toward Deucalion, but the blond brushed it aside and
stepped straight past him. "You must forgive Ennis he's a tad antisocial."
Derek let his hand fall with an arch of one eyebrow. "Really? I can't say I
noticed." He muttered as he stepped after Deucalion into the bitch block and
closed the door.
Deucalion stepped further into the complex, blinking as his eyes adjusted to
the fluorescent lighting and taking in the long hallway with closed doors
leading off it and at the end. He cast his eyes around appreciatively. "My
Derek, you have quite the set up here." He said as he turned toward him with a
thin smile.
Derek dipped is head in acknowledgement of the reluctant praise. "My own
design, comprehensive and self-contained. I can do everything here," he
gestured around him with some pride, "there's even a surgical theater and one
bed hospital to allow us to carry out complex surgeries and modifications
without the need for the bitch to leave the premises. Less trauma."
Deucalion's eyebrows rose. "And your surgeon would be?"
"Alan Deaton."
"Ah," Deucalion nodded with a smile, "I've heard nothing but good things about
Dr Deaton, for a human he's remarkable."
"Brilliant," Derek concurred, "I have complete faith in him."
"Excellent." Deucalion paused and made a show of looking around. "The bitch?"
He enquired quietly.
"Is in her kennel here." Derek answered quickly ushering the Alpha over to
where the bitch was being held.
Deucalion gave a dark chuckle as his eyes scanned the small, barred area.
"Kennel? Surely cell is more fitting."
"I prefer kennel. " Derek replied glibly, reaching and unlocking the door . It
released with a quiet hiss, opened and Deucalion took step inside, his eyes
lowering to the boy's prone form.
Derek remained where he was at the door, arms folded loosely over his chest,
legs slightly apart, his eyes siding between the Alpha and the body on the
floor.
Deualion gazed at the boy with frown. "Why is he unconscious?" He asked without
drawing his eyes away from Stiles.
"He's still sedated." Derek replied dryly.
Deucalion grunted and took several steps closer, his piercing blue eyes
scanning the boy's long limbs and slight body. He nudged Stiles with the toe of
his shoe and he rolled, flopping onto his back. Deucalion tipped his head to
one side and studied his face a moment."He's pretty enough, good mouth."
Derek didn't feel the need to answer and remained mute as Deucalion bobbed down
at the boy's side and allowed his narrowed eyes to stroll slowly down the
length of his body, chest, abdomen, stomach, groin, where his eyes lingered
before sweeping down over taut thighs and shapely legs to feet with delicate
toes.
Had he been awake Stiles would have blushed and squirmed under the Alpha's
sharp, and assessing gaze.
The blond took in the boy's youthful, beardless face, expanse of creamy skin
and long, lean muscles, the wisps of dark hair on his chest and slightly
thicker at his groin. "How old?"
"Fourteen."
Deucalion gave a hum of satisfaction. "His story."
"A runaway. Dead mother, drunken, abusive father who pimped him out in the last
year or so for booze money. No other relatives." Derek reeled off Stiles
history in a concise, emotionless monologue. One he'd heard many times before.
"It never ceases to amaze me," Deucalion trailed his fingertips over Stiles
chest and abdomen, across his flat stomach heading South, "how very careless
humans are with their young."He cast a quick sideways glance at Derek who gave
a noncommittal shrug of his wide shoulders. "Nice skin," the Alpha's eyes swept
back to the boy, "pale, silky." His mouth pushed into a moue of distaste. "I
can't say I'm a fan of all the moles, I would have preferred if he were
unblemished."
Derek's arms tightened. "I rather like the moles, they add intrigue and a
uniqueness." He answered evenly.
The Alpha inhaled a long breath and let it out slowly with an audible hiss, he
wasn't used to someone challenging his opinion, still Derek's heartbeat was
even and steady. "I daresay I can get used to them," he conceded, " and he is
attractive." He gave Derek a look which clearly challenged him to disagree with
him.
"Yes indeed, very attractive." Derek answered the challenge, curiious that he
couldn't pick any sign of arousal from Deucalion.
Slender fingers curled around Stiles plump cock as it lay flaccid against his
thigh, Deucalion squeezed it and felt it twitch against his palm. "Nice cock,
good balls. Shame he's going to loose them." He muttered almost to himself.
Derek unfurled his arms and let them hang at his sides. "I always advocate
castration, it takes care of so many problems before they arise," he began to
reel off the advantages, "better temperament, less hair over the body, softens
the angles into curves, softer skin and hair, increases submission..."
"Yes, yes," Deucalion raised his hand to stop the flow,"I am well aware of why
it's done..."
"And of course," Derek continued unphased, "it makes the bitch concentrate on
your pleasure, not their own." He gestured at the boy with his hand. "And
emphasizes your dominion over their body. It's not as if they need them and you
can always leave the cock as it is. It'll shrink by a third to a half anyway
once he looses the balls." He concluded matter-of- factly.
Deucalion flicked at the boy's lax organ. "No," he put his hands on his knees
and pushed upright never taking his eyes off the body, "let's stick with what
we decided I'm not that enamored of his cock and want the option of a tight
cunt to fuck." He turned to Derek with a thin lipped smile. "I don't like his
hair."
"It'll grow out." Derek said casually.
"And he could do with putting on a little weight, I have never enjoyed fucking
a bag of bones."
"A regular diet will take care of that."
"What color are his eyes?"
"Dark whiskey, like sour mash."
"Excellent."Deucalion dipped is head sharply once. "Everything seems in order."
He reached into the pocket of his suede jacket and drew out a folded piece of
paper and offered it to Derek. "I trust this will be satisfactory." It was a
rhetorical question and Derek plucked the paper from Deucalion's fingers and
unfolded it and his eyes scanned it quickly. It was a printout of the contract
between them and held Deucalion's signature at the bottom.
"Quite satisfactory." Derek nodded and refolded the contract and pushed it into
the rear pocket of his jeans. "All that remains now is to give your bitch her
name."
Deulcalion pouted and studied the form on the floor. "What name do they go by
at present?"
"Stiles."
"Stiles?" Deucalion's gaze swung to Derek. "Seriously?"
"His origins are foreign." Derek explained with a indifferent shrug of the
shoulders.
"Humph," Deucalion snorted, "that will never do." His expression grew
thoughtful, his voice distant as he looked at the boy. "Such delightfully pale
skin, I'm thinking Pearl or perhaps Luna. What do you think?" He asked suddenly
turning toward Derek.
Derek's eyes slid from the boy to the Alpha and back, the sudden question
catching him on the back foot. "It's not for me to choose the name, the bitch
is going to be yours."
Deucalion chuckled. "Very diplomatically put Derek, but seriously I'd
appreciate your opinion."
"Whichever you prefer Alpha." Derek insisted.
"Come Derek," the Alpha's voice was edged with impatience, "I've asked for your
opinion."
Derek might also be an Alpha, but he acknowledged Deucalion's seniority and
power, pissing him off by dodging the question wasn't an option so he schooled
his face to indifference and studied the new Bitch. "If she was mine I'd
probably go with Luna." He answered mildly.
Deucalion clapped is hands together and a broad, somewhat malevolent grin
graced his features. "There, that wasn't so hard. Luna it is then."Derek arched
an elegant brow. "How soon will you begin transformation?"
"Immediately, I'll take her to see Deaton later today for an initial check up,
shots and so on."
"Splendid!" Deucalion's hand landed on Derek's shoulder. "I have every
confidence in your abilities."
His patronizing tone grated on Derek's nerves. "Thank you Alpha."
The hand slid away. "Which surgery will you perform first?" Deucalion asked
with morbid curiosity.
"Probably the partial de vocalization and the tendons of the fingers. They're
not big surgeries and in no way interfere with he rest of her training, but
their impact in psychological terms is very great. It more or less makes her
helpless and increases dependence on me and her eagerness to please."
Deucalion frowned. "I would have thought castration a priority, it's not a big
surgery."
"Of itself no," Derek agreed, " but you want full androginoid sex reassignment
and that's a big surgery and will involve bed rest for several days and weeks
for full healing. It'll interfere with her training."
Deucalion nodded. "I bow to your expertise." He stepped toward the door of the
kennel. "I expect you to keep me fully appraised of her progress," he muttered
as he pushed past Derek, "I'll stop by to see the transformation for myself."
"Of course Alpha," Derek stepped after him, "if you could call ahead and let me
know...." Deucalion turned quickly to face him with narrowed, piercing eyes.
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to disturb her training schedule." Derek added with
a tight smile.
Intense blue eyes studied Derek for a moment, searching his face for any sign
of insolence and finding a steady heartbeat and unfathomable expression,
Deucalion snorted softly and pivoted toward the outside door. "How long do you
anticipate it'll take until she's ready." He asked as he strode along.
"Six to nine months."
The Alpha stopped abruptly. "I didn't think you were serious."
Black brows knitted together in frown."I quoted as long in the contract." Derek
asserted.
"Indeed, the thing is Hale I'm not a patient wolf, I'm sure you could hurry
things along, shave a month off here and there. It can't be that difficult to
train a human," he paused, "unless you anticipate a problem?"
Derek folded his arms over his chest and widened his legs taking a defensive
stance. "May I remind you Alpha Deucalion that you came to me because you know
I can deliver what you want. I don't cut corners either with training,
surgeries or time to heal. Healing is the key here, he's young and might heal
quickly, there again he's human and may not and I haven't had time to assess
his susceptibility and resistance to training."
Deucalion noted the defiance in Derek's eye and a ghost of a smile appeared
around his mouth. "Very well, I'll curb my impatience, for a while at least."
He reached the door to the block. "I've had a think about what you said about
piercing's. I'd like nipple, clitoris, labia piercing's and my pack sigil
branded on the left hip."
Derek nodded, in the greater scheme of things they were incidentals. "We can
discuss what you want at a later date." Derek opened the door for Deucalion to
step through.
 
"When will you begin?"
"The moment you leave, as I said I'm taking her for her initial appointment
with Deaton later today."
The blond Alpha cast one last look at the kennel. "I shall look forward to
hearing from you Derek." Without waiting for a reply Deucalion brushed past
Derek and stepped through the open door.
Ennis was leaning casually on the side of the car, arms folded across his
impressive chest, he straightened as he saw his Alpha and opened the rear door.
Deucalon ducked as he slid onto the rear seat and Ennis closed the door. Derek
watched from the doorway as Ennis rounded the car to the driver's side and cast
him a malevolent glare. He tugged the door open and slid his six foot four bulk
behind the wheel. Derek had no idea why Deucaion's Alpha bodyguard had taken
such an obvious dislike to him and he didn't really care, he was a firm
believer in the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Perhaps Ennis believed
that he could break a human and Derek had no doubt that he could, but there was
a world of difference between breaking and training.
One produced a mindless, cringing creature who obeyed slavishly through a
broken mind and body motivated largely by fear, self preservation and the other
subtly bent their will to your own, produced an obsessive desire to please and
slavish devotion, robbed them of their identity and replaced it with one of
your choosing. Righteous fear played a part, respect, the carrot and the stick
applied in the right amounts, mental and emotional manipulation as well as
physical punishment, a subtle play of light and dark. Derek would break the
human down into composite parts and rebuild them into the bitch he wanted.
This was his art.
Derek watched the limousine as it drove up the drive, secured the door and
turned back to the block, time to begin work...
 
The fluorescent lights were out and mid morning sun shone through the row of
high windows and cheerily illuminated the bitch block and Stiles kennel. It
crept down the wall and slanted across the floor, warming Stiles flank he lay
on his side. It wasn't the first sensation Stiles was aware of as he clawed his
way through the thick and cloying fog of sedation, inch by inch discovering his
body. He was laid on something hard and smooth and because he could feel it
against the length of his skin, he had to conclude that he was naked on the
floor. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the drug, but this was not as
alarming as it should have been and it was when he tried to straighten his legs
and was unable to do so that he began to panic.
Derek sat on the high backed wooden chair opposite the door of the kennel
absorbed in the book he was reading. It was mid morning and he'd forced himself
to get a few hours sleep, not because he needed it but because his body hummed
with excitement and anticipation at the prospect of beginning work with a new
bitch and he needed to be calm and focused. The werewolf had decided to allow
the human to sleep off the sedative rather than use the reversal drug, they
were usually less groggy, disorientated and alert more quickly. He heard the
uptick in the human's heartbeat and increased blood pressure that heralded his
awakening and his clear, pale hazel eyes swept up from the page. The boy
whimpered, his hand twitched and Derek shut his book and placed it on the floor
beside his chair, leaned forward and rest his elbows on his thighs, forearms
stretched along his legs and hands draped loosely over his knees and waited.
This initial meeting was the singular most important event in their association
and Derek had left nothing to chance. He had 'dressed' the boy while he was
still sedated, it was easier than fighting with him when he was alert. It
immediately put the human at a passive disadvantage, a fait accompli and how
the bitch reacted would say a lot about their future interactions. Derek had
even dressed the part in a grey wife beater that showcased his raw, muscled
body, wide, broad shoulders, plump biceps, roped forearms and strained across
the mounds of his pectorals and clung to his undulating washboard abs. Tight,
blue jeans emphasized his trim waist, tight thighs and the bulge at his crotch.
All meant to be arousing and intimidating in equal measure.
Stiles heart pounded against his ribs. Why couldn't he straighten his legs? He
tried to force his eyes to open as he struggled and flailed.
"Stop struggling and open your eyes. Use your hands to push up onto all fours."
Surprisingly there was a soothing tone to Derek's voice.
Stiles froze, he'd only heard the voice briefly but it sent fear spiraling
through his body and his eyes flew wide, unfocused and disorientated.
Derek, the man from the car.
His eyes bounced from one surface to another. Tiles, white tiled walls and a
black and white tiled floor beneath him, bars in front of him, he was in some
kind of cell. He could make out a shadowy shape beyond the bars, Stiles shook
his head and blinked rapidly as his eyes came into focus. He struggled to his
knees, his heart careering wildly out of control and trying to suck air around
something pushed between his teeth and locked into place around his head. He
lifted his hands to pull at it and saw to his horror that his hands were
encased in what appeared to be black, thumbless boxing mitts and fastened into
place by broad wrist cuffs with a tiny padlock with shiny silver fastenings and
D rings. Stiles twisted his head and found the same sort of arrangement on his
feet, padded bootees with broad ankle cuffs, a thick linked chain clipped to
the D rings and running up to D rings in wide cuffs around each thigh, the
chain was only long enough to keep his legs bent so that he could kneel, crawl
or lie on his side. There were protective pads strapped to his knees and some
sort of harness over his shoulders, across his chest, down his abdomen to
another thick strap around his waist, all buckled into place at the back. Panic
raged through his mind.What the fuck was happening? What kind of deranged
psychopath had him. Was he going to kill him, torture him or worse? He drooled
around the gag in his mouth, eyes wide and afraid he began to gasp for breath,
his sore lungs burned. A movement beyond the bars caught his eye and he
recoiled as Derek rose to his feet. Frightened eyes followed the movement
stinging and glistening with tears.
The bitch was beautiful, Derek knew classic black was good color to choose for
her harness, mitts, bootees, cuffs and the black bone gag just finished her off
nicely. Terror rolled off her in great, cresting waves and crashed over him so
that he flexed and unflexed his hands in agitation. Her heart pounded, blood
roared through her veins and she smelt of confusion and despair. She whimpered
behind the gag, eyes pleading for help, chest heaving. Derek stepped closer to
the bars. "Are you going to have a panic attack?" He asked dispassionately.
"Because I have to tell you it doesn't matter, we'll continue this when you
come around." He paused watching with his intense gaze like he was studying a
bug in a jar. "Breathe through your nose, deep, slow breaths. In, out, in,
out."
Perhaps it was fear that made Stiles obey and breathe in the rhythm Derek set.
His breathing evened out and the threat of blackout receded to the outer edges
of his mind. His head thumped, chest ached and his heart threatened to burst
through with every beat against his ribs.
Derek leaned his hip casually against the bars. "Take it easy girl." A deep
crease of confusion appeared between Stiles eyes, he wasn't agirl.
As Stiles stared a ghost of a smile appeared round Derek's mouth. "I see you
remember me."
It was hard for Stiles to keep on looking at Derek even though he did look
different from the last time he saw him. Gone were the nerdy spectacles and
clothes, his thick, black hair was swept back and he had the start of a dark
beard. This guy was wickedly handsome with mysterious pale green eyes that
beckoned to him irresistibly, a bad boy and undoubtedly dangerous, schooled in
sinful, Satanic ways. Who knew that such a hot, ripped body lay under those
clothes? It hurt to remember the way Leon had betrayed him and how stupid he
had been to get into the car , how easily he had been an architect in his own
downfall. Stiles looked away trying to focus on something that would distract
his traitorous train of thought. How long had he been unconscious? What else
had Derek done to him besides dress him up like something from a bad porn
movie?
"Easy," Derek soothed as he became concerned about Stiles elevated heart rate
and blood pressure, it would be a shame to loose the bitch to a stroke or heart
attack, costly too, " it's going to be all right. I'm not going to kill you, I
need you to calm down and pay attention to what I'm saying. I know your
confused and frightened but I need you to listen and believe what I tell you.
Can you do that girl?"
Again with the girl, Stiles stifled a sob.
Derek sighed. "Crying won't help the situation," he said coldly, "it'll just
make you snotty and gross and you'll find it harder to breathe. And frankly it
pisses me off and you really don't want to do that."
Stiles choked back another sob and Derek waited until he was sure he had his
attention. "The first thing you need to know is that escape is impossible."
Stiles blinked. "Even if you managed to get out of your kennel and the building
your not in Kansas any more." The crease reappeared between Stiles eyes. "It's
more than a hundred miles to the city and the second thing you need to know is
that I'm a werewolf."
Oh whoopee, not just a run-of-the-mill psychopathic kidnapper then. Stiles
eyebrows rose comically high. This one's a batshit crazy, delusional,
psychopathic kidnapper, he thinks he's some kind of mythical monster. Just my
luck, why couldn't he believe he was the fucking Tooth Fairy.
Derek watched as the skepticism moved in Stiles eyes. "You should believe what
I tell you," he said dryly, "look."
Stiles stared in horror as Derek shifted into his Beta form. Brow ridges
dropped, whiskers thickened, his muscles seemed to become even bigger, the tips
of his ears grew pointed, fangs filled his mouth, claws grew where his nails
had been and his eyes became a vivid electric blue. Derek grew monstrous before
his eyes.
Stiles heart threatened to explode through his chest like in Alien as he
watched helplessly and then scrambled back into the furthest corner of his
kennel...
Demonstration complete Derek continued amiably. "See, I won't lie to you,"
Derek said as with a little effort his shift melted away into his human guise.
"You need to accept what I say to you. This is a werewolf community, lots of us
here, werewolves or werewolf sympathizers. Seventy miles of werewolf held
territory between here and the highway to the city and not all of us are as
benign toward humans as I am. There are those who wouldn't hesitate to tear a
human apart on sight," he paused a moment to give time for what he said to sink
in, "you're quite safe with me." He added in a soothing tone. "I won't kill
you, but I won't lie to you by saying I'll never hurt you because I probably
will." Stiles eyes darted up to Derek's face.
So not comforting.
"But never more than you can stand."
Still not comforting.
"And punishment is in your hands. Do as I say, when I say it and I won't punish
you unnecessarily. Piss me off and it's on your own head." He warned. "I will
hurt you, but never permanently."
If this was a pep talk it was failing miserably.
"You need to understand so you can survive here. There are three types of
werewolf, Alpha, Beta, Omega. I'm an Alpha, we're the strongest most powerful
of our kind, the leaders. The Betas are the most common werewolf and work with
the Alphas. The Omegas are about as common as Alphas and for want of a better
description males and females are breeders. Betas breed with Betas and Alphas
with Omega. Alphas might take other Alphas and Betas or even Omegas as mates,
but only breed with Omegas."
Stiles head spun, what the hell did it have to do with why he'd been kidnapped?
"All this means very little to you except for why you're here."
Oh, at last the punch line. Stiles concentrated on Derek's words.
"Our society has lots of laws, regulations and traditions about who fucks who
and under what circumstances. Casual sex is frowned on unless with your mate or
breeder. This is all very well but it's frustrating for Alphas, we have a
powerful sex drive and appetites that are hard to satisfy, it comes with being
an Alpha and high levels of testosterone and dominance." Derek offered in
explanation, paused and looked Stiles straight in the eyes. "This is where you
come in."
Stiles paled.
"Human males, especially younger ones are very much like male Omega to an Alpha
and putting it bluntly," Derek gave a cynical smile, "Alphas like to fuck your
tight asses. Your not werewolves, there are no rules or regulations attached to
you, Alphas can do what they like to you and you have the advantage that you
can't get pregnant. Sex with you isn't even counted as infidelity. " He
absorbed the sudden spike in fear rolling off Stiles and ashen features with
satisfaction. "I don't know why you're looking so horrified, I'm not asking you
to do anything you weren't prepared to do for Leon, the only difference is now
you're doing it with werewolves. In fact you should be thanking me. " Derek
pouted to indicate his hurt feelings. "I've saved you from a downward spiral of
despair, of being a whore, passed around from man to man, selling your body to
eek out a barely subsistence existence. Out of your head on drugs, riddled with
disease, abused and probably found dead in a dumpster before you're twenty
five." His eyebrow arched. " The Alpha who wants you is willing to pay
handsomely and if you adapt and accept your training, with a little
modification that you'll hardly notice, I can transform you into a treasured
bitch, a place to live, a pampered plaything, fed and cared for, medical
attention when you need it, enough food and all you have to do is learn how to
obey and sexually serve and please your Alpha."
Derek's soft, coaxing voice lulled Stiles into thinking maybe it wouldn't be
such a bad thing, especially if all Alphas looked anything like Derek.
"It's not hard." The Alpha added.
Derek's green eyed gaze burned into Stiles as he pressed his back against the
smooth, tiled wall at the back of the kennel. The spell was broken by Derek's
final words, now he knew, his free will as well as his freedom was to be taken
away from him. He was destined to be a sex slave to a monster with no laws to
protect him, the Alpha could do what he liked to him. He might be a whore, the
things that Derek forecast might come true but it was his choice to live that
life, here he had no choice, he wouldn't even be allowed to die.
Derek pushed away from the bars, his voice hardening ruthlessly. "And in any
case it's not as if you have a choice." His lips pressed together
thinly."Listen up girl, from now on your name's Luna and here's how it going to
be. For the foreseeable future you'll live in this kennel and crawl on all
fours, I don't want to see your hands leave the ground ever and you won't
attempt to stand, that's why your wearing mitts and knee pads. Understand?"
The wolf waited until Stiles gave a tentative nod before continuing. “I walk in
a room, you look at me . For now I'm your Alpha, you depend on me for
everything and have to always know where I am, what I’m doing, what I might
need you for. You learn to anticipate my desires. Only way you learn that is if
you watch me, got it?” Derek paused, satisfied when Stiles dipped his head
once. "You do what I say when I say it, I don't want to have to repeat myself.
You never look me directly in the eyes, my wolf interprets it as a challenge
and I will hurt you. If I tell you to look at me, raise your head and
concentrate your gaze on my mouth, always keep your eyes lowered. For now I'll
let you keep your voice, don't speak unless I ask you a question or tell you
to, you may make other noises but if I hear words coming out of your mouth I'm
liable to tear your tongue out." Stiles eyes rounded in fear. "But I'm not a
monster," Derek said easily, "Leon said you're mouthy so for now I'll help you
and you'll wear that gag to remind you not to speak and I'll remove it for
eating and drinking, at which times you'll remain silent.
 
You'll get three meals a day ,morning, early afternoon and evening. You'll have
an hour to clear your bowl and get a drink. If you don't eat, that's up to
you," he shrugged, "but be warned I won't let you starve yourself, your worth
too much and I will force feed you if I have to and neither of us will enjoy
the experience."
Stiles felt the terrible urge to laugh hysterically bubbling up inside him.
This couldn't be happening, it had to be a macabre joke.
"Other than that," Derek continued. "you'll get three or four bathroom breaks a
day and go outside to piss and shit, do it in there," he gestured into kennel
with his chin, "and I'll hose you down with the kennel, otherwise you'll get a
warm bath daily, werewolves have sensitive noses and you'll be kept clean."
Fuck, fuck, fuck, the sick bastard might look a Greek god version of Satan, but
he was barking in more ways than one!
"I won't stand for displays of disobedience, poor temperament or aggression, "
Derek warned grimly, "it pisses me off and you don't want to do that."
Stiles could hardly believe that the pathetic whine that broke out from behind
the gag was made by him.
Derek's voice softened. "Put aside all thoughts of how you think you should
behave as a human and obey me and we'll get along fine. I know this is scary
and a lot to take in and I won't bother you with more now. But don't take
leniency for weakness, I'm going to make you into the perfect bitch, needy,
obedient, willing - it doesn't matter what your Alpha asks you to do, you'll
just do it."
Stiles wary eyes followed Derek's hand as he lifted it and keyed in the
combination and looked into the retinal scanner. The barred door unlocked with
a hiss and he swung it open and took a step inside the kennel. "Do you need to
outside?" He asked mildly."Move your head yes or no."
Stiles shook his head.
Derek arched a brow. "Are you sure? It's no bother."
Stiles shook his head again.
Derek grunted. "Very well, but remember what I said about fouling the kennel."
He gave Stiles a second to change his mind before continuing. "I'm going to
take off your gag and let you get a drink, I don't want you getting dehydrated.
I'll feed you later today after we get back from seeing Dr Deaton." Derek
chuckled at Stiles surge of fear. "Don't worry,"he said with an amused tone,
"he's only giving to give you few shots and a once over today, just making sure
your healthy."
Stiles wanted to run screaming, crawling or whatever out of there as quickly as
possible, the kennel door was open but he was greatly disadvantaged, the
sedative was still circulating his system and Derek stood in the way, but he
might not get another chance. Derek took a single step toward him and Stiles
eyes bounced from Derek to the open door and back, he fought the desire to
shrink back against the wall. Derek reached out his hand.
"Here girl, here Luna." He coaxed. "Come here and let me take the gag off."
Despite Derek's mild manner Stiles was frozen to the spot, unable to get his
limbs to move even if he wanted to.
Derek pressed his lips together into a thin, straight line. "I'm not going to
hurt you and I said I don't like repeating myself." There was a sharp edge to
his voice.
Abruptly Derek stepped forward and this hand snaked out and his fingers snagged
the back of Stiles harness and he hauled him forward in front of him. Derek
would have preferred that Stiles hair had been long enough for him to twist his
fingers into the roots and wrench him forward, but it wasn't and his harness
would have to do.
The sudden movement brought Stiles to life and his eyes skidded to the open
door. Derek bent over him and he felt the werewolf undo the strap at the back
of his head and the gag slackened in his mouth. Stiles jaw ached but this was
the least of his worries, he was a man not a dog, he was nobody's sex toy and
he needed to get away and in a split second everything slid sideways.
Derek was still bent over him concentrating on undoing the gag and he didn't
have time to register Stiles spike in adrenaline and elevated heart rate before
the boy reared up sharply to his knees and head butted Derek in the face and
shoved him roughly away. In the normal course of event Stiles actions would
have been neither here nor there, but he caught Derek by surprise and his head
butt hit home, right on Derek's nose. The werewolf yelped and staggered back
dropping the gag, Stiles bolted for the door as fast as his ungainly crawl
would allow, Derek righted himself and shook his head spraying flecks of blood
over the white tiled walls. The Alpha's snarl made Stiles blood run cold as he
scrambled through the door and was suddenly wrenched from the floor and hauled
back into the kennel and in blind panic he lashed out as hard as he could with
this arms.
"Let me go you crazy fucking bastard!" Stiles voice came out in a broken shriek
as he lashed at Derek, he may as well have been beating a brick wall for all
the impression he was making. Derek was eerily silent, drew back his arm and
back handed Stiles across the cheek. The boy tasted his own blood as he flew
across the kennel and into the opposite wall and slid down in a crumpled heap.
He was too dazed and hurt to appreciate that Derek had pulled the blow at the
last second and in terms of a werewolf it was little more than a love pat. But
Stiles wasn't a werewolf, the inside of his cheek was spilt, his cheek was on
fire and his jaw was possibly broken from the searing pain that made him feel
nauseous...
***** Going On An Outing *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings: Medical Examination, Choke Collar, Threat of Surgery,
     Dental Gag, Gags, Medical Equipment, Aftermath of Mild Violence.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Derek swiped the back of his hand across his face and
smeared it with blood. He continued to swear under his breath as he strode over
to the prone form crumpled in the corner of the kennel and hoisted Stiles onto
his hands and knees using the back of his harness. Stiles swayed groggily,
dazed and in pain, blood bubbling from his mouth and dripping onto the floor.
"Are you fucking stupid?" Derek growled. " Look what you made me do!"
Somewhere distant Stiles snickered bitterly at the thought that he could make
Derek do anything. "What didn't you understand when I told you I'd hurt you if
you pissed me off?"
Stiles groaned, his head swam and fire burned in his cheek. Derek wrenched his
wife beater over his head and balled it up in his hand and with a touch far
more gentle than his harsh voice, he pressed the garment to Stiles mouth.
"Don't swallow the blood, it'll make you sick."
Derek kept a gentle, steady pressure on Stiles mouth as he coughed and
spluttered out blood, the sickly taste of copper making him gag.
"Did I knock out any teeth?"
Stiles shook his head a little and then wished he hadn't as a wave of dizziness
overtook him and his arms threatened to give way. Derek steadied him with a
hand curled into his harness.
"Steady girl."
Derek's voice was low, almost gentle as the flow of blood began to ease. Derek
waited until Stiles seemed steadier and then he cupped his chin with his hand
and carefully manipulated his jaw. The bitch whimpered a little but there was
no telltale click or grating of bone. The tension eased in Derek's broad
shoulders, the bitch's jaw wasn't broken but the cheek was already swelling and
a livid black and red bruise blossomed vividly under the pale skin. The Alpha
probed cautiously at the bruise and Stiles hissed. "Ow!"
"That hurts?"
Well, duh. What the hell did the fucking bastard think? Stiles looked up at him
whiskey eyes delivering a death glare, Derek's jaw tensed and Stiles quickly
dropped his eyes. Derek felt a frisson of satisfaction at least the bitch had
learned something.
The zygomatic bone was in tact and the orbital socket, the bruising and
swelling would soon go down, but there was no doubt that Deaton would comment,
he was always reminding Derek how fragile humans were and urging him to handle
them with care until they toughened up. The blood was probably from damage done
to the inside of the bitch's mouth and Deaton would deal with it. Derek tilted
upright, the blood soaked wife beater in his hand and studied Stiles for a
moment taking in his dazed and bruised appearance and then seemed to make a
decision.
"Wait here." Derek said abruptly and turned away not waiting for an answer and
strode out of the kennel without even bothering to close the door. Stiles eyes
tracked him as he disappeared through on of the other doors.
Stiles tried to focus on the open door, should he make a dash for it? What had
seemed like a good idea before was suddenly less appealing. Where would he go?
The outside door was undoubtedly locked even if he got that far. With the way
he felt he couldn't move fast and what might Derek do to him if he tried to
escape? His body quaked with fear. No, better to bide his time than risk Derek
causing him serious injury.
Derek returned carrying a metal tray with two glass bowls, one full of water
and washrag, one empty, a towel draped over his bare shoulder and a tumbler of
water. He entered the kennel with Stiles eyes following his every movement
warily. The wolf crossed to where a platform jutted out from the wall a few
inches above the floor with a thin mattress and blanket laid on it in the form
of a rough bed and sat on the edge, the tray at his feet on the floor. He had
taken the time to wipe his face free of the smears of blood and crooked his
index finger at Stiles in invitation.
"Come."
Stiles blinked at the command and cocked his head to one side, his brain still
sluggish from the sedative circulating his system and dazed from Derek's blow.
Derek gave a tried sigh when the bitch didn't obey immediately, he pressed his
lips together thinly and arched one eyebrow.
"Y'know I thought you looked bright enough, seems that I may have over
estimated your abilities on that score." His voice started off conversationally
but became more ruthless as he progressed. "I'm not in the habit of repeating
myself."
For a moment Stiles didn't move and he saw the instant Derek's eyes hardened,
the way his muscles tensed when he made to rise from the bed and began to crawl
reluctantly toward him, hand knee, hand, knee... Derek relaxed and his eyes
followed Stiles progress as he crawled toward him.
"There may be some hope for you yet" His tight smile wasn't encouraging.
When Stiles was close enough Derek reached out and his hand and powerful
fingers curled into the leather straps of the harness. Stiles cringed, afraid
of being hit again as he was hauled between Derek's feet.
"I'm not going to hit you again, unless you give me cause," the wolf rumbled,
"here."
Derek lifted the tumbler of water and pressed it to Stiles lips.
"Swill out your mouth and spit into the empty bowl."
Stiles hissed as the glass pressed painfully on his bruised lip and warm water
flowed into his mouth, he swilled and spit the rust colored liquid into the
empty bowl as he was instructed. Three times Derek made him repeat the exercise
and then he seemed satisfied and put the tumbler down. The wolf ran one hand
over the velvet brush of Stiles hair, following the contours of his head
feeling the prickle against his palm. He soaked the washrag in the clean water
of the other bowl and squeezed it out.
"Chin up."
Stiles raised his chin and Derek cupped it in one hand and gingerly swiped away
the blood with far more gentleness than Stiles expected.
"Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked in a choked voice.
For a moment Derek's hand froze and his eyes hardened to a glacial green.
Stiles cowered, the cringing form seemed to go some way to mollifying the wolf.
Derek grunted and continued swiping away the blood.
"I'm not a monster."
 
Actually, Stiles thought ruefully, you are. "No, " he continued, "why are you
doing this, any of it to me?"
A warning cloud settled on Derek's features and for a moment Stiles thought he
had gone too far as the wolf's hand stilled again and then the tension eased in
the square jaw. Derek's hand cupped Stiles bruised cheek and he felt the pain
bleed away.
"Because I can, because I'm good at what do and earn a lot of money doing it."
Derek's voice was even and unemotional.
The wolf continued to swipe the bood away and then dropped the washrag into the
murky bowl and plucked the towel from his shoulder. Derek held Stiles chin with
one hand and dabbed at his face with the towel held in the other.
"Attacking me was a stupid thing to do," Stiles watched the play of Derek's
muscles as they bunched and flexed in his arms and chest, "I'm a werewolf, a
human can't best me," he added with a warning note, "your so fragile even a tap
from me could do you serious damage."
Stiles bristled, he wasn't fragile and he wanted to say that he had taken worse
beatings from his father, but the look in Derek's eyes as he opened his mouth
silenced him. "I could seriously hurt you without really meaning to, any
werewolf could." Stiles noted the inherent warning the wolf's words held. "Like
I said, it's not wise to piss me off." Derek's hand stilled and he released his
chin. "Anyway," Derek moved the bowls to one side and folded the towel onto the
tray, "I know all this is strange to you, a big change from your old life," he
paused, "but you'd better get used to it there's no going back and anyway from
what I saw it's not as if you have anything worth going back to." He gave a
brief shake of his head. "This life is what you make of it, the Alpha who
commissioned you is paying me a lot of money, he'll own you body and soul and
you'll have a good life if you stop doing stupid things and thinking for
yourself, you'll be taken care of."
How dare Derek imply that somehow he deserved what he was doing to him, that he
couldn't take care of or think for himself. Stiles face pinched and he gave a
low snort.
Derek's eyes flashed. "Stop that! I'm not asking you to do anything that you
weren't prepared to do before, only now you do it with werewolves."
That wasn't strictly true of course, he doubted even Leon would demand the same
level of submission from him and that he took pleasure from being fucked by
wolves and gigantic dogs, but he would save that tidbit until later. "You'll
get everything you need to keep you healthy, including medical attention,
that's more than you'd have gotten from Leon. All you have to do is forget
about what you want and concentrate on pleasing and obeying your Alpha, which
for the moment is me." Derek smirked.
Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing, he wanted to punch the wolf's
stupid, handsome face, run screaming from the kennel, but he could hardly move
the sedative still active in his system. Derek pushed to his feet and studied
him.
"Is there anything you need? I'm not going to feed you until you've seen the
doc and the sedative has had more time to wear off, but you should drink or
you'll get dehydrated. Are you thirsty?"
Stiles mouth suddenly felt as parched and grainy as the desert and he nodded.
"Right, over here." Derek strode over to the front of the kennel and gestured
to the large, hamster-like water bottle with curved, chrome spout. "You can get
a drink here."
Stiles eyes flicked to Derek and then to the bottle. The wolf had to be joking,
right? Derek's face remained inscrutable. Guess not. Stiles crawled toward the
front of the kennel, slow and awkward.
Derek sighed, the bitch was slow and ungainly but grace could be taught and
speed and fluid movement would come with time and practice. Stiles halted in
front of the bottle and looked warily at it before taking the chrome spout
between his lips and sucking on it like a straw. His cheeks hollowed but
nothing happened, Derek snorted.
"No. Don't suck it rim the end with your tongue and lick at it as if were the
head of a cock and the water will come out."
Stiles pulled off and gave Derek a momentary dirty look before doing at he was
told. Cold water flooded his mouth and he swallowed eagerly, realizing for the
first time how thirsty he was. Once, twice, three big gulps of water before
Derek was pulling him off by his harness.
"That's enough," he said roughly, "any more and you'll make yourself sick and I
don't fancy cleaning up after you."
Stiles kept his eyes lowered as a little cool water dribbled down his chin.
Derek straightened before bending and scooping up the bone- shaped gag from
where he'd dropped it when Stiles head butted him. He stretched it out between
his hands and for a moment a look of indecision crossed his face. The bitch's
face was bruised and swollen on the left side, like a hamster with its mouth
stuffed and puffy below his eye. The fastenings of the gag would rub on it and
the bitch had been quiet enough since the incident, Derek's eyes flickered and
he stuffed the gag into the pocket of his pants. He couldn't make any better of
what had happened but a few hours rest and maybe it wouldn't look so bad and
Deaton wouldn't moan at him so much.
"Get some rest," the wolf said abruptly, "you have a busy afternoon ahead." He
gestured toward the platform that jutted from the wall with a mattress and
blanket on it. "Being unconscious isn't the same as asleep." He stepped over to
the tray and swept it up from the floor. "Well, come on."
Derek watched impassively as Stiles crawled over to the bed and then scrambled
up, ungainly, awkward and flopped onto one side. Satisfied he balanced the tray
in one hand and secured the door to the kennel with the other before walking to
the small kitchen where he prepared the bitch's food and depositing the tray
and then leaving the block via the side door straight into the house.
Stiles eyes tracked the wolf as he left and he couldn't help but admire Derek's
fluid lines and graceful movements and then he was gone and he was left alone.
He wanted to cry, tears stung behind his eyes but he was afraid the noise would
attract the wolf and what he might do to him. He didn't want to sleep and his
mind raced helter-skelter thinking of all that had happened to him. He didn't
deserve this, any of it, at least Stiles thought he didn't and he had to escape
the man, wolf or whatever he was. He was obviously dangerously psychotic and
for the moment it was probably best to play along, avoid further injury and
pissing Derek off. If he could make him trust him sooner or later Derek was
bound to make a slip and he could seize the chance to escape and get help and
put the wolf behind bars where he belonged.
Stiles didn't want to sleep afraid of Derek coming back and also of what he
might dream about, but his exhausted body betrayed him and he dropped off to
sleep despite himself.
In the house Derek logged onto the feed from the kennel and watched Stiles as
his fought to stay awake on his phone. His eyelids would droop and then he'd
jump awake only to close his eyes a few seconds later, he smiled grimly and
watched as Stiles fell asleep and his body relaxed.
 
Stiles had no idea what had awakened him or how long he'd slept. The block was
silent and flooded with the light of mid afternoon and he was immediately aware
of two things.The inside cheek of his mouth was sore and his bladder was full
to bursting and there was an ache in the pit of his stomach. Alarmed he was
going to wet the bed Stiles slid off the bed to the floor. A noise made him
jump, the sound of drawers opening and closing coming from the room at the end
of the block. He peered through the bars of the kennel, the door at the end was
ajar and he could see the shadow of someone in the room. Stiles heart beat
against his ribs, it was presumably Derek, he'd seen no-one else and Derek had
given the impression they were alone, but suppose it was someone else? And if
it wasn't, what then? Stiles felt damned either way and shrank back from the
bars, his bladder forgotten as footsteps neared the door.
Stiles held his breath and actually felt relieved when Derek stepped into sight
through the doorway.
Better the devil you know. Stiles thought ruefully.
The wolf had changed, his jeans were tight and back, his T-shirt white and he
had pulled on a black, leather biker jacket with zips, studs and pockets, he
wore lightweight black boots and grinned broadly when he saw Stiles was wake.
He strode to the front of the kennel. "Ah, good your awake. I have a treat for
you, your first outing." He had a thick linked chain in one hand, Stiles
recognized it as a choke collar they used on dogs and a brown leather leash in
the other. Carefully Derek threaded the collar and tested it on his wrist, it
tightened when he pulled and slackened when he released it. "Now don't look so
worried," he cajoled, "this is just temporary for today to make sure you are a
good girl, you'll get another collar when you get home. Of course," Derek
smirked, "you'll probably like it even less." The wolf unlocked the kennel and
stood back. "Luna come."
Stiles stayed where he was, Derek's brow arched. "Luna come!" There was bite to
the command and Stiles flinched. Derek sighed and narrowed his eyes. "If I have
to come and get you, you won't like it." He said softly, too softly and the
inherent menace in his tone got Stiles moving.
Stiles crawled to the front of the kennel and through the open door, Derek
stopped him with a hand on his head. "Good girl. Keep your hands on the floor."
Stiles tried to jerk his head away as Derek held out the collar but he caught
his chin and held him firmly as he dropped the loop of chain over his head. The
wolf adjusted the collar's position round Stiles neck and clipped on the leash
and then experimented a couple of times tightening and slackening it. Stiles
ducked his head to try and sip it off and when that didn't work raised a
mittened hand to try and flick it off.
"No! Bad girl!" Derek knocked his hand away and jerked the collar, the chain
ratcheted up tight and the links bit into the tender skin of Stiles neck
momentarily cutting off his air and then slackening. Stiles was still. "There
we go, you'll soon get used to it."
Derek reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out the bone shaped gag.
"Just to make sure you don't speak out of turn."
Stiles opened his mouth the say he wouldn't but he never got the chance as
Derek pushed the rubber bone into his mouth and between his teeth then cinched
the straps tight behind his head. "There." Derek stood back and scrutinized his
handy work. "All set to visit doc Deaton."
Derek walked slowly to the outside door of the block allowing Stiles time to
crawl after him and keeping a slight tension on the leash so that the collar
was neither too tight nor too slack. He opened the door and stepped into the
light of a sunny afternoon and Stiles crawled after him. The boy blinked when
he got outside his eyes adjusting to the light and looking around. Everywhere
there were trees encroaching on the open space that surrounded the large house
and in the distance the booming bark of dog. Stiles was so relieved to be
outside that he forgot to be embarrassed by his nakedness and figuring the
chances of his escape expanded exponentially outside the kennel, someone was
bound to see him and come to his aid. Derek gave him a few minutes to get his
bearings and then led him along the path that ran side the gravel driveway, the
paving didn't hurt through the padding on his knees. They stopped at square
piece of grass.
"I know you need to take a piss."
Reminded of the demands of his bladder Stiles felt a sharp ache in the pit of
his stomach, he needed to pee desperately, his bladder as taut as a drum.
"Go ahead." Derek encouraged. Stiles felt a mixture of horror and despair ,
Derek looked back at him with mild impatience. "We have an appointment to
keep," he said with the hint of a threat, "I don't want us to be late, it's not
polite. You can still go with the leg restraints on, squat or raise your leg if
that's easier."
To his mortification Stiles realized this was as good as it got, if only Derek
would turn his back he'd always had shy bladder.
"Well?" Derek narrowed his eyes.
Stiles screwed his eyes shut, spread his legs as far apart as he could,
squatted and released his bladder. He pissed like a racehorse and to his
disgust some urine splashed onto himself, next time he'd lift his leg. The
relief was immense and when he'd finished Derek praised him and ran his hand
over his head.
"Good girl, I told you, you could do it. You must learn to trust me. Come on."
Derek jerked the leash and led him to where he'd drawn up the SUV with its
tailgate open. Bear barked in the distance and Derek chuckled. "That's Bear, I
guess he's eager to meet you, but we'll wait until tomorrow."
Stiles shivered from the row the dog was making it sounded as if it was going
to eat him. He peered into the back of the SUV, there was a wire cage, like a
big dog crate with its door open and a thick rubber mat on the floor and a
blanket. Without so much as a grunt of effort Derek used both hands on the back
of his harness to swing Stiles into the air and into the crate.
"Settle down." The wolf instructed as he closed the cage door. "It's not a long
ride, may as well enjoy it." He closed the tailgate and for a moment Stiles was
alone in the SUV before the driver's door opened and Derek slid behind the
wheel.
 
Even from inside the crate it was possible for Stiles to see out of the tinted
side windows and watch the countryside flashing past, fields, trees, hedgerows
as they followed the turns and twists of the road. He guessed that Derek had
told the truth and they were far out into the country, what had he said? it was
more than a hundred miles to the city and they were in some kind of werewolf
community well fuck that! They might be in the country but if there was a
werewolf community everyone would know about it, no he reckoned Derek had just
said that to scare him and if he got away, plenty of people would help him.
They drove for twenty minutes and then things began to change, countryside gave
way gradually to buildings, the sound of other vehicles, wide tree lined
sidewalks with pedestrians, traffic lights, intersections and crossings, a
school, shops, hospital, houses and smart apartment blocks, the hustle and
bustle of a small, affluent town. Stiles heart leaped, as soon a he was lifted
out of the SUV he would slip his collar and make a bolt for the nearest person,
even if he couldn't speak anyone looking at him would know he needed help.
Derek turned into a quieter street and parked up.
"That's lucky, we've got a spot right outside the clinic girl, less distance
for you to crawl."
Stiles didn't care he was practically vibrating with excitement. Derek opened
the door and slid out of the driver's seat, closed the door behind him and
released the tailgate, Stiles got his first glimpse of the smart town through
the wire of the crate. Derek unfastened the crate door and curled one hand into
his harness to prevent his jumping out, not the he could anyway and wrapped the
leash firmly around his free hand several times until it was taut, but not
tight.
"Remember," the wolf warned softy, "behave yourself and your hands never leave
the ground."
Effortlessly Derek swung Stiles from the crate to the sidewalk by the back of
his harness and set him down, straight away Stiles lowered his head and backed
up expecting the collar to sip off over his head.
It didn't.
The collar tightened and the links pinched his skin, he shook his head and
Derek stared at him.
"What on earth are you doing?" He asked with mild amusement. "Your making a
spectacle of yourself."
Stiles head jerked up wondering if he should fight the leash to draw more
attention, but he was disappointed. The wide tree lined street was almost
deserted and the one or two people going about their business gave him cursory,
disinterested glances as if seeing a naked human crawling on hands and knees at
the end of a leash, wearing a bone shaped gag and leg restraints was the most
normal thing in the world. It was then the truth hit him, no-one cared, no-one
was coming to his aid and as if to emphasize the point a tall, thick set man
with blonde hair appeared. He led a boy a few years older than Stiles by a
chain leash attached to a thick leather collar. The tawny haired boy was naked
except for mittens and bootees like his, a red ball gag and black knee
protectors. He crawled quickly along at his owner's side and neither spared him
so much as glance.
Stiles felt tears prick behind his eyes, what Derek had said was true and if he
was ever going to escape, he's have to do it himself. Derek locked the tail
gate and bobbed down beside him.
"I told you," the wolf said quietly as he repositioned the collar, "this is
your life now and the quicker you accept it, the easier it'll be."
Stiles ground his teeth against the gag.
"Remember, " Derek warned, "best behavior and hands down at all times. Bitches
walk on all fours.."
 
The waiting room of the pet clinic was large, it smelt of chemicals and
disinfectant, the floor was terracotta tiles and animal posters festooned the
white painted walls. Many of them showed boys like Stiles with adverts for
complete diets, hormone therapy, boredom buster toys, leashes, collars,
harnesses, butt plugs, vitamins, training aids, shampoos, body rubs, bootees
and mittens, crates, the worst turned Stiles stomach, the value and health
benefits of castration, penis reduction and gender augmentation. There was a
half moon reception desk with a computer and shelves behind of medicines,
diets, pills and potions. The pretty, red haired receptionist looked up as they
entered and smiled broadly at Derek with a flutter of her eyelashes.
"Alpha Hale!" She sounded as though she didn't expect to see him. "Good to see
you."
"Afternoon Sherry." Derek leaned his elbows on the counter. " We have a three
thirty with doc Deaton."
The receptionist tapped a couple of keys. "Yeah, here you are." The details of
the appointment scrolled up the screen. Sherry stood and leaned over the
counter and peered down at Stiles.
"New bitch, what's her name?"
"Luna."
 
"Luna, pretty name for a pretty girl." Sherry grinned, Stiles rolled his eyes.
Sherry resumed her seat. "Let's start her records....name .. Luna." She
muttered to herself. "Owner?"
"Me for now." Derek answered and she tapped the keys. "Same address?"
"Yes."
"Approximate age?"
"He says sixteen but he's probably fourteen." Derek answered.
"I'll put 14-16 to be covered. Any previous owners?"
"No."
"Any medical history?"
"No."
"Medical issues?"
Derek pouted thoughtfully. "None that I've noticed so far."
"Allergies?"
"How would I know?" Derek answered somewhat impatiently.
Sherry raised her head. "You could always try asking."
Derek's lips thinned and Sherry ducked her head. "Just a suggestion." she
murmured and then louder. "That's all for now Alpha Hale, take a seat and the
doctor won't keep you waiting." She gave Derek a tremulous smile.
There were seats at intervals around the outside of the room against the walls
and a door to the right that bore the brass plaqueDr Alan Deaton and led to the
examination room, small operating theater, recovery and hospital cages beyond.
There was only one other person waiting, a slender, tall, sable haired Alpha
with an aquiline nose sat nearest the door and Derek swept up a magazine from
the small, round table and chose a chair diagonally opposite and as far away as
possible from the bitch he had with him in case she was ill. Derek sat down
pulling Stiles in close to his left leg and opened the magazine in which he had
no interest whatsoever. The strange Alpha studied them, his hand moving
absently though his bitch's onyx hair.
"First visit?"
Derek's eyes swept up. "Yes." He answered briefly not wanting to encourage
conversation.
"I thought so," the stranger continued, "Deaton's very good." He said casting a
critical eye over Stiles.
Derek grunted in reply and dropped his eyes back to the magazine.
"A new bitch?
Derek ground his teeth, what didn't the Alpha get about his not wanting to
engage in small talk?
"Yes, " Derek said without looking up, " very new."
The Alpha was encouraged by Derek's reply. "I remember when I first got Rosie,
it's always stressful when you first get one, but really there's no need to
worry they're tougher than they look.."
Derek abandoned his magazine with an irascible sigh and closed it, clearly the
Alpha wasn't going to give up trying to engage him in conversation. "I'm not
worried and she's not my first bitch."
"Oh," the Alpha sat back."How many have you had?"
"Luna's my fifteenth." Derek enjoyed the look of shock that stole over the
young Alpha's face.
"Fifteen? Forgive me you don't..."
"Look old enough? " Derek finished for him with an amused chuckle. "I've been
told that before." He relented. "I'm a trainer, I obtain and train bitches for
Alpha who retain my services. Luna is my latest."
The young Alpha's eyes dropped to Stiles. "She's certainly very lovely."
Derek knew good manners dictate he say something about Rosie, but really what
was there to say? Rosie was obviously an economy model, allowed to be far too
masculine for Derek's taste. Oh, there was an attractiveness about the pale
cafe au lait skin, onyx hair and sloe eyes sure enough, but the body was too
angular, too much dark hair marred the skin and the muscle structure was too
pronounced. Clearly from the undersized penis the bitch was castrated but had
not received hormone therapy to soften the corners, give her small breasts and
rid her of excess hair. Worse was the long chin and uneven jaw which completely
threw off the facial symmetry and was an unforgivable flaw. Derek would never
have worked with the human unless the prospective owner was willing to pay for
surgery to correct the fault. The Alpha who employed him viewed bitches as
status symbols and demanded perfection physically and behaviorally. He watched
the Alpha's fingers comb through Rosie's hair as she gazed at Stiles and
drooled around the red ball gag.
"Rosie's very... Striking." Derek smiled tightly.
The young Alpha's face split into a devastating grin."Thank you," his hand
ruffled the bitch's hair affectionately. "I've had her two years and wouldn't
be without her." The bitch looked up at him. "We're here today for her shots,
you can't be too careful."
At that moment the exam room door opened and a thick set black man in a white
lab coat with a moustache and goatee, poked his bald head around the door.
"Rosie Davenport please."
The young man pushed to his feet. "Guess that's us." He jiggled the chain leash
encouragingly and the bitch rose off her haunches.
The black man's eyes fell on Derek and he grinned in recognition as he stepped
aside to allow the young Alpha and his bitch to enter the room.
"I'll be with you shortly Alpha Hale."
Derek tipped his head once and smiled back. Stiles eyes rounded and brows rose
in horror as he stared at Rosie's ass. It wasn't the black butt plug with the
rubber tail that waved jauntily over her back as she moved that disturbed him
so much as the smooth place where Rosie's balls should have been, she'd been
castrated! Stiles shivered as he remembered what Derek said, he was going to do
that to him! His heart hammered in his chest as he began to panic. Derek pulled
his brows together and looked at Stiles with concern.
"What's wrong girl?" His gaze followed where Stiles was staring and he chuckled
bending forward to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry I'll never do that to you,"
Stiles body swept with relief, "I'll never make you wear a rubber tail...."
A few minutes later Rosie and her owner reappeared, thanked the black man and
went to the reception counter to settle the bill as the vet called them into
the room. Derek stood and took one step toward the room, Stiles sat firmly on
his haunches and refused to move, Derek looked at him with a raised brow.
"Come Luna."
Stiles braced his arms and pulled back, Deaton chuckled and Derek's expression
hardened.
"Come!" Derek repeated harshly and the choke collar tightened, the links bit
into the tender skin of Stiles neck. Left to him, Derek would gladly have
dragged Stiles across the floor choking all the way, but Deaton intervened.
"She's scared, pick her up Alpha Hale and bring her inside."
Derek gave a low growl, picked Stiles up like a piece of left luggage using the
back straps of the harness and arms and legs dangling Stiles found himself
effortlessly transported into the exam room, Deaton closed the door.
"Straight onto the examination table please."
Deaton gestured at a large, square table with a black, rubberized non slip top
that dominated the center of the room. The room was larger than it appeared
from the outside. In one corner was a small desk, chair and lap top computer,
the walls and cupboards groaned under instruments, potions, powders, pills,
bandages, syringes, dressings , medicines of all kinds and the instrumental
paraphernalia of a vet come doctor, more items lay on the faux marble counter
top. In another corner was a small sink and two tier trolley with a white cloth
over the top tier and some kind of machine below, a door led through to the
rear of the clinic, kennels and operating theater. It smelt of chemicals and
disinfectant more strongly than the waiting room.
Derek set Stiles on the table and secured a tight grip on his harness and
collar, Deaton stood back and surveyed him critically.
"So this is Luna, she's certainly very lovely, aren't you girl?" Deaton stepped
forward, adopted a crooning, patronizing tone and ran his hand over Stiles
skull, tutting absently.
Derek shrugged. "It'll grow."
"It never ceases to amaze me what young humans will do to themselves. Well now,
" Deaton stepped back and gazed at Stiles intently. "Good proportions,
definitely young, nearer fourteen than sixteen. Obtained from the usual
sources?"
"Leon."
Deaton pouted. "Is he clean?"
"Leon said he tested negative for STDs and no drugs except a little weed."
"I'll do my own tests as usual, to be sure."
Derek nodded.
"She's underweight and could stand to gain seven to fourteen pounds," Deaton
made an off hand gesture, "you'll soon see to that, she's likely anaemic too."
He stepped to Stiles head and frowned. "How did she..." He gestured to Stiles
bruised cheek.
Derek pressed his lips together into a thin line. "She head-butted me and
mouthed off trying to escape.
Deaton tutted and sighed. "Derek I know you like to be a hands on trainer but
you also know how easily it is for a werewolf to injure a human." He
manipulated Stiles jaw from side to side. "Luckily you seem to have gotten away
with it." There was a note of disapproval in his voice.
"It was a gut reaction to being attacked," Derek replied defensively, "and I
did pull my punch."
Deaton responded evenly. "Which is why I recommend the use of shock collars, it
looks brutal especially at the higher settings but it doesn't leave any lasting
physical damage."
Derek disagreed, he knew plenty of nervous, twitchy even aggressive bitches as
a result of improper use of the collar for the most minor infractions where a
quick slap on the ass was much better and trainers who set the collar so high,
they'd inadvertently killed stubborn humans. "Well," Derek pursed his lips,
"we'll agree to differ on that point, you know I generally use a collar but she
hasn't had her heart tested and I didn't want her dropping down dead on me."
Deaton grunted. "Valid point"
Stiles bit into the rubber gag wanting to scream that he was right there, he
was in the fucking room and they were talking as if he wasn't there or
incapable of understanding. Deaton placed two fingers under his chin and raised
his head so that Stiles was looking into his grim face.
"Things will go better for you if you're a good girl and accept what's happened
to you and do as Derek tells you. It's for your own good."
For his own good?! Stiles felt hysteria bubble up inside him, it was obvious
that not only Derek was in need of a straight jacket!
Deaton saw the rebellion in Stiles eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's
up to you, it won't change the outcome." He removed his fingers and let Stiles
chin fall. "Very well, let's press on." His eyes lifted to Derek. "Who has
commissioned her?"
"Deucalion." Derek answered.
"Deucalion?" Deaton frowned. "I would have thought if he wanted a bitch he'd
also want the pleasure of training her himself..."
Derek shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I thought so too. but
apparently not. It seems he and Peter are acquainted."
"That doesn't surprise me." Deaton interjected.
"Anyway," Derek continued, "he had dinner at Peter's place, met Princess and
was very impressed, very taken with her . Peter gave him my name and he asked
me to supply a similar bitch."
Deaton grunted. "Princess is very sweet, very biddable , a good looking and
sexually skilled bitch, so it's not unexpected that he was taken with her. Luna
here certainly has the looks but there's no guarantee she'll be as biddable or
skilled."
"Skill I can teach," Derek smirked "and she'll be compliant enough by the time
I'm finished with her."
Stiles trembled at Deaton's dark chuckle. "I don't doubt it. Shall we
continue..." It wasn't a question.
Derek nodded.
Deaton started by pressing gently with his finger tips around Stiles bruised
cheek and humming to himself when the boy winced. "Seems to be only soft tissue
damage and there's no need for an Xray at this stage and even if the bone is
cracked it'll heal on its own." His eyes flicked up to Derek. "You're lucky."
The wolf rolled his eyes.
Deaton pulled the trolley toward him and jerked the cloth away to reveal a
frightening array of instruments, dressings, cotton wool, surgical spirit, KY
jelly, latex gloves and syringes on the top tier. He picked up a tympanic
thermometer pressing it into Stiles ear and took his temperature . " Thirty
seven point three." He said mildly."That's fine." He replaced the thermometer
and picked up an auriscope and looked in both Stiles ears. "No problems
visually," he said as he straightened. "Do you get any ear problems?"
Stiles shook his head.
"Good." He replaced the auriscope on the trolley. " Remove the gag please Alpha
Hale."
Derek frowned and hesitated. "I don't think..."
Deaton arched one brow. "I have to ask questions and it's easier if she can
answer them."
Reluctantly Derek unbuckled the back of the gag and it sipped from Stiles
mouth. Stiles worked his aching jaw.
"Just a few questions. "Do you wear spectacles?"
"No."
"Suffer from frequent headaches or any dizziness, double or blurred vision?"
"No."
"Follow my finger with your eyes, keep your head still." Deaton moved his index
finger to a number of positions and Stiles eyes tracked him. Lastly he shone a
bright penlight into each eye in turn to test the reaction of the pupils and
then stepped back. "Without a full eye examination they seem fine, you feel as
though you can see okay?"
"Yes."
Deaton slipped the penlight back into the breast pocket of his lab coat. "While
the gag is off I'm going to examine your teeth, mouth and throat. This can go
one of two ways I can use this..." He held up a wicked looking device. "It's
called a Jennings Dental Mouth Gag, I'm told it's very uncomfortable." Two
hinged metal frames wrapped around the front of the patient's head and had
sections bent to fit between the front teeth. When spread apart, the frames
separated the jaws, holding the mouth open. The desired degree of separation
was set and maintained by a ratchet mechanism on one side of the frame.
Stiles was horrified and is eyes widened as he shrank back until Derek caught
hold of him. "Nooooo." He wailed.
"Or," the vet continued, " you can keep your mouth open wide yourself, which is
it to be. Hmmm?"
Stiles glanced at Derek's hard and Deaton's determined faces, "I'll keep my
mouth open." He whispered.
"Good girl." Deaton patted his head, if he'd had the nerve Stiles would have
snapped at him.
As Deaton turned to drop the gag back onto the trolley, Derek whispered in
Stiles ear. "Any teeth and I'll pull them out with pliers one by one."
Stiles was left in no doubt that he would!
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