Date: Mon, 5 Apr 2010 07:40:46 +0300
From: Guardian Drake <mat.maren@gmail.com>
Subject: Adult-youth/Part 2 - Wolf's Eyes

Disclaimer: This story is a work of and contains descriptions of explicit
sexual acts of boy's discovering their sexuality.  It contains graphic
scenes of sex between an underage boy and adult males...  If this type of
content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it.

    Author's Note:

    This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for
personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to
re-post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission. If
it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the topic
distasteful the please leave now.  If you enjoy the story or if it evokes
memories of your own, please let me know.

    Also, I'm not a native English speaker. I practice my knowledge of the
language mostly by reading and haven't so far had the chance of visiting a
country where the English is officially spoken. This means that there is a
very big possibility that I have misspelled or misplaced words and phrases,
as well as I probably messed up with the tenses. I hope this won't repel
the readers or spoil the pleasure of reading. I started this story with the
intention to slightly move the focus of the story from the pure sex
experiences and discovery of sexuality to the real man/boy relationships
and its psychology as I see it, and to show my view on the matter.
Unfortunately, this would mean showing more every-day real-life situations
and the character's reactions to them, in order to reveal their feelings in
better manner. This will postpone the sexual scene for some later point.

    Although this story is a work of fiction, I tried to put in it as much
realism as I could. My wish is to work in the field of literature field
some day, and despite my being 33 years old I haven't given up hope. I
would really appreciate any comments or recommendations on subjects of
style, plot, story building or character building.  You may contact me at
mat.maren@gmail.com

Copyright 2010 Mat Maren, All rights reserved.


Wolves eyes

Part 2
Hunting ground

To say that the weeks before the trip to Doug's cabin were passing
painfully slow would be an understatement. O.K., I was getting loads of
"orgasms" - Doug told me the correct word for reaching my happy place - but
it wasn't real sex. Doug would finish me off without even touching my
cocklet, but I suppose that was something everyone can do with an anxious,
"horny" - another new word - 12 years old. It just took the pressure of
naked skin to naked skin, plump body to hard muscle, a few minutes of
instance deep mouth kissing, and a few husky words.

"Why don't you just do it?!" I asked him one afternoon. I tried on
concentrate my homework in his living room, and failing. He was sitting a
few feet away from me, topless, tan, pumped muscles and all, and we did not
have our kissing session for the day.

"Do you homework. Now. You have 45 minutes. I need to finish reading this
report", he had ordered me pointing to the other end of the living room
couch.

Now he looked at me knowingly under his brows. He was so smug about it - of
me wanting him so bad that I can't concentrate showing. I throw my pen on
the table in exasperation.

One big hand just reached and grabbed me. A swirling motion and I flew in
the air. The next thing I knew I was pressed flat against his chest, with
both our "erections" - another new word - caught between us. His werewolf
nature was one of the things that could just melt me. I just craved it -
craved him jumping me from an ambush, and tossing me around... And by the
look on his face, he knew it.

Doug was much more opened with me when we were alone since I gave myself to
him - nothing to bottle up, nothing to hide any more. I on the other hand
obtained some strange boldness when I was with him. I had been able to read
his feelings better. It was sheer relief not to watch my every word and
move all the time - not wanting to push him away with something said or
done.

"Soon, Sweetie, don't be inpatient." He smiled down at me with satisfaction
and proprietary. He smelled so good. "Stop pouting, it doesn't suit you."

POUT?!? I will give him pout! O.K. I loved when he babied me, but treating
me like 3 years old girl whose doll had been taken away really drives me
crazy. I snarled in anger. But he shut my mouth before I can say anything
with a kiss. I melted again.

He had been doing that on purpose, I knew it, obviously angering me and
timing me afterward was his thing. Just like mine was to push him to turn
on me. It had become like a play between us.

He broke the kiss before I reached my happy place and just smiled down at
me. I loved feeling small in his huge hands embracing me, pressing me tight
against the wall of the bulky chest muscles. His manly smell steaming from
his chest. The taste of honey of his lips. Never in my short 12 years old
life I felt as loved, protected and safe as when I was in his arms.

His eyes blazed golden. I reached out and touched the scar, crossing his
cheek with my fingertips. His smile widened and the scar curled even more.

"You love my scar, don't you?" he asked with satisfaction. "You're touching
it all the time".

"It is what makes you most scary" I answered dreamily.

"You like being scared of me?" he purred softly.

I tried to concentrate, which was a big problem when I was in his arms and
pick the right words for what I was feeling.

"I love being a little scared of you and knowing you wouldn't hurt me. That
you would hurt others, but never - me. Not for real anyway. The knowledge
that you could turn so easily you anger at me and just crush me. The weak
conviction you never will. The scars are..." I tried again "Your scars are
the essence... like a summary of how deadly dangerous you are."

His eyes blazed golden again.

"You think I can kill?" he asked. "Is this turning you on?"

"No... it's not like that at all... It's like you would kill everybody but
me."

He chuckled.

"Why are you so convinced that I would kill somebody?" he asked.

I hesitated.

"You look lethal... You're scary... I don't know" The last bit I shouldn't
have said. It was a lie and Doug had the werewolf nose after all - he can
smell lies. As a conformation suddenly his implacable grip around me
tightened for a brief second, enough for me to gasp in pain.

"You should know better by now than to try lying to me" he chided.

I looked at him a bit scared of what he will do to me if I told him I knew
his secret. I was pretty sure that he won't kill me, not as long as he had
me on a tight leash to make sure I won't involuntary spill it to
someone. Werewolves hadn't come out yet, not in the Real World.  Keeping
their existence a secret meant killing everybody who knows about them.

His eyes blazed amber and cold this time.

"Tell me. Now." He ordered me, making sure that the "now" had the strongest
impact as possible.

I started trembling of what was about to come. He wouldn't kill me -
probably - as long as I was his. The frightened look on my face made him
close against me, wiping up all expression out of his face - but to before
I could catch the glimpse of surprise in his eyes.

"NOW." This time he put the real force in the "now". He really didn't like
me disobeying him, or hesitating.

"I know you're a werewolf" I said in a tiny, shaken voice.

His coldness shattered in a blink and he laughed happily hugging me closer
and nuzzling my neck. He looked in my eyes, his - full of happiness. And,
no, whatever you say, I wasn't imagining it, I saw the golden amber there!

"Sweetie, what are you reading this time?" he asked in amusement.

That offended me.

"This has nothing to do with me knowing about you!" I said with
indignation,

Actually it has all to do with it, because the books gave me the answer
what Doug was, but that was not the point.

"Baby, you read "Harry Potter", and I'm a death eater. You read "Dance with
the Ice" and I'm a dread lord. You read "Mortal instruments" - I'm a shadow
hunter. You read "Iron tears", - I'm a hitman. You read Anita Blake - I'm a
vampire. What are you reading now?"

" 'Moon called' by Patricia Briggs" I told him grimly. "But doesn't change
the fact what you are."

"And how would you know that?" he asked cheerily. I really didn't like it
when I amused him like that - like I've been a baby and just said something
CUTE. I frowned even deeper.

"You fit the profile perfectly" I informed him with cold indignation, or at
least I hope I sounded like that.

"And what profile would that be?" He tried to hide how much amused he was
and to close his face a bit, but his eyes were sparkling with secret
laughter.

'Well', I told myself, 'I'll wipe your amusement soon enough.'

"Your temper tantrums. Your need to keep your anger in check so you can
control your Beast all the time, so you won't turn violent and kill
everybody. You need to dominate people around you. You need to protect and
to take care of them afterward. Your employees, you don't care about them
the way boss should care - like only work related... You take care of them
like a head of a family. But you are keeping them into submission all the
time. So its' too tight of a grip, it's not a family. It's like a werewolf
pack. You're eyes turn golden when you're angry or happy, like now. You
like to intimidate people. Besides, you weren't at your house for the last
three full moon nights. I checked my BL log-ins. I log early afternoon if
you're out of town on business. The timing fits. It's all in the book."

He was taken aback.

A thoughtful expression crossed his face. He gave me a long look I couldn't
read.

"My throws of temper? I need to dominate and protect? I'm keeping my Beast
in check all the time?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I think I will read this book of yours. But, Sweetie, this is Real
World. There are no werewolves in real life. They are in books only, no
matter how close I come to description in this particular one."

"O.K., I know you have to keep it a secret, Doug, but you know you can
trust me. I won't babble it to anybody. You don't have to worry - won't
have to eliminate me. Just admit it!"

"Eliminating you?!?" he gave out a helpless laughter. "You read too much,
kid. This is too big of a word for you small head."

That irritated me.

"Just admit it!" I almost yelled at him, and as soon I heard my tone I knew
that there'll be temper tantrum coming my way. No one yells at Doug, not
even I.

But instead of going berserk he softened even more.

"Baby, whatever I tell you, you won't believe me" he started, speaking
slowly in the soft voice people use on small children or mentally ill.
"Unless I admit I'm a werewolf. And as soon as I admit I'm a werewolf only
to make you happy, you'll start tormenting me to change shape for you. And
how would I do that, if I'm not a werewolf? So, I'm not admitting."

I hate logic. Mostly, because I can't muster a proper reply - yet. But I
keep trying.

"Lies have scent! You can smell when I'm not telling the truth! You even
smell half-truths! No one can lie to you because you can smell they are
lying!"

"No, Sweetie, I can's SMELL a lie, I'm just very good at reading
people. That's all".

He hugged me tight.

"And you are so strong, you can lift cars with your bare hands!"

"Baby, why won't I be simply human? Why I always have to be something
else?"

I huffed in exasperation.

"Because you are too good to be human! And I don't like when you call me
'Sweetie'!" I added.

"You don't?" he asked me, smiling.

"No, I don't! That's the way Mums call their little girls! I'm NOT little
and I'm NOT a girl!"

"I know that, Sweetie. I call you this, because you taste like
caramel. That's all".

He was laughing at me again, I could see that. But I knew how to answer
that. Should I call him 'Honey' - the way Mums call Dads? I already had
known how much Doug would be irritated with this house-wife name
calling. He did tasted like honey. I opened my mouth to tell him just that.

"I love you." He whispered.

This shut me up.



***



One night, after Doug had dinner at our house with me and Mum, I went to
bed but I couldn't sleep and went downstairs for a glass of milk. Doug and
Mom were sitting talking in the living room. I couldn't miss the
opportunity and listen in. The relationship between Doug and Mom was a
mystery to me, because both of them always made sure to keep me out of it.

"I don't know what to do any more" Mom was saying. "Mr. Stevens called me
today. He said Nick's been "lost in thoughts" and "daydreaming" in class
again. The boy can't concentrate in class, he does silly mistakes in his
homework, under-performs... He suggested I might be should take him to a
blood test for drugs. I don't what to do".

I heard a sound of glass sipping. There was an open bottle of wine on the
kitchen counter. The floor felt cold under my bare feet.

"I couldn't coax it out of him yet" Doug said. "It's something different
This time. More serious. He wouldn't talk to me. Yet. But something bothers
him big time."

He paused.

"You think he's been taking drugs?" my Mom asked.

"No. You know the symptoms of drugs addiction yourself, Margaret, its
something else. O.K., he is constantly distracted, sometimes frantic,
fidgeting, mood swings and all, but he doesn't have the physical
symptoms. No pupil's dilation. No needle marks. He doesn't smell like he
smoked pot, and I'm checking his backpack everyday for pills. Even if he
was taking something at school, he would have the symptoms when he's back
home. It's not drugs. Besides, he's too smart for that."

"I really don't know what to do" my Mum said again. "I'm really worried. I
can't find what's wrong with him. I'm starting to think I should bring him
to child psychologist."

"I'm worried too" said Doug, who perfectly well knew what was wrong with
me. First it was my stupid anxiety about accepting to be his. Now it was
the anxiety of what was coming.

"OK" he said "Here's what we will do. His vacation is coming in three
weeks. I'll take him to my cabin for its duration. Two weeks of fresh
mountain air, fishing, hiking... Some change of scenery. He haven't been to
the mountains, he'll like it. The change should be able to relax him enough
so he'll talk to me. I think this requires some serious man-to-man talk,
and no matter how much I have been trying the last few weeks, I can't make
him talk here. I think we need to be somewhere alone, just the two of us,
for a while. All this started when I went on that business trip, so,
whatever it is, it's my fault. I'm the one that should fix it, or at least
try. If this fails, you could go with the psychologist idea."

My Mom sighted.

"Douglas" she started. "I appreciate all the things you do about Nicolas, I
really do. But... But he's not your problem".

I heard Doug's cold laugh.

"I choose my own problems, Margaret, and I have chosen this one. I'm not
boy's father. You could see clearly I'm not parental material. I'm not
family material either. I'm not taking away any parental functions from
you, neither will I undermine your authority." His voice softened. "I'm
sorry, Margaret, I didn't want to be harsh. But Nick so much resembles my
baby bro that I couldn't help it. This is my chance to make things right."
He sighed and she echoed.

"He loves you, you know. You're the father he never had the chance to have"
she said.

Doug kept silent for a long time. Suddenly I wanted to see his face in that
moment.

"I know" he said finally, unhappily. "But I'm not taking the father's role
with him, Margie. I'm too much of a control freak to be someone's
father. I'll make his life living Hell. Big bro's better suits me-
protective, but not that dictatorial. Besides, I don't think it was my
sudden absence that coursed this, not so directly. We pick it up from were
we left when I came back. It's more like it like something happened when I
was away to prevent it. Anyway, I'm getting to the bottom of this. Can I
have more wine, please?"

I sneaked back to my room before they could discover me listening up,
thinking "Big bro, my butt".



Two things I learned from that conversation. First was, although my Mom was
worried a little, she was happy for me to be around someone that could
teach me the things she couldn't. The man things. The things Dads teach
their sons. But she still worried about the closeness between me and
Doug. Second, Doug was tremendous liar. He could do wickedest things with
the truth, twisting and bending it as it suited him. He was adding some
parts from himself here and there, nudging, and prodding and pulling,
misleading and manipulating people into what he wanted. It didn't occur to
me until few weeks later the significance of this. That he could have been
doing it to me too. But that wouldn't matter at the end, I mean, not
really. I would have done what I was about to do anyway.

My Mom had that almost inhuman sense about anything that could be a threat
to her little boy. She was viciously protective of me. Only two things that
were preventing her of sensing the things between me and Doug were a
slightly different from what is presented. Doug's lying ability and her -
working all the time and not seeing me much to pick up the signals. She was
suspicious, tho, but unable to pinpoint what was bothering her.

She came to me, trying to clear matters before she let her son spend two
weeks with a man, who wasn't his father in isolated cabin in the mountains.

She came to me while I was playing BL. She obviously didn't understood the
game all that well, because she got the timing wrong. I was gathering
herbs. In order to coax something out of me when my mind is occupied
elsewhere, she had to come in the middle while I was raiding of some 6-man
dungeon may be. Or probably a 10 man's raid. Not a 20-man raid, tho,
because I would have been too occupied and wouldn't be talking at
all. 20-man raids need all concentration a player could muster.

She made an effort to do a small talk at first.

"Honey, did Doug ever hurt you?" she asked after a bit.

That irritated me. I might love when Doug called me baby-names, but my
Mum's babying was a different thing. I had figured out she had come to
sniff about already, so I had been prepared for the question. But this
needed to be handled carefully. I sipped the cacao she brought with her. It
tasted of marshmallows.

I would play her all along. I was gathering herbs in-game so she had all my
attention, but I wasn't going to show her that. I'll pretend I had been
hoping she would leave me alone. We have that agreement that playing BL was
my personal time only, but - being my Mom - she felt free to trespass
whenever she felt like it. This time the matter was serious, though, and
she wouldn't leave until I give her something.

"Huh?" I pretended I hadn't heard her.

She repeated the question carefully.

"Yeah, two or three times." I sounded distracted even to myself. I was
getting good at lying. If you know where to look books can teach you how to
lie. At least they give you the theory -you still need the practice. 'Well,
I hope this will work' I thought to myself.

"He did?" she asked careful not to draw my attention.

"Oh, yeah, once he startled me so bad when I was rummaging into the closet,
that I jumped I hit my head in a shelf. And that time when those boys had
beaten me up, he tried to remove my dirty clothes it and hurt bad. He
didn't mean it."

She sipped her cacao then and kept quiet. I could see her face in the
reflection in the screen's glass, but it wasn't clear enough for me to read
it. Am I overdoing it?

"Those boys he found beating you..." she said after a while. "What did he
do to them?"

"He grabbed Peter by his shirt and lifted him in the air, and yelled in his
face" I told her in the same absent voice. Doug also bashed him in the
wall, but my Mom didn't need to know that.  "Peter was so scared he pissed
himself."

"But he didn't hit them?" she asked.

"Doug doesn't believe in violence, he believes into intimidation" I said
casually.

"Did he intimidate you in some manner?"

"Nah, he doesn't have to, he knows I fear him already" I told her.

I had been cruel I know, but she had been trying to sneak upon me. I didn't
like that at all.

"You are scared of him?"

"Not of him, not really" I told her in a bit exasperated voice, like I was
unhappy with the distraction. "I'm afraid he'll be mad at me. Remember that
time I was occupied with that Lord Cruel raid that went for too long? I
forgot to water the garden plants. He got mad and stopped talking to me. He
ignored me for hours, like I wasn't there. He wouldn't talk to me at all,
just like you do when you're mad at me. And that time I forgot to walk D'av
too. I don't want you two mad at me, ever."

There, that should be enough to settle her. I sipped the cacao again and
wished it were hot chocolate. I don't like cacao all that much.

"Did he..." she starter, but stopped uncertain how to continue. "Did he
ever hit you?"

I pretended that had my attention drown away from the game and looked at
her in fake puzzlement.

"Hit me?" I asked.

"Slapped you in the face or something?" she gave me a hint.

This time I hadn't to work all that hard to be convincing.

"Mom, Doug never laid a finger on me. He never yelled at me even, no matter
how angry I had made him. OK, he shouted at me that time with the beating,
but he yells at me only when he is scared for me. Why these questions?
What's going on?"

She smiled, obviously satisfied with my answers.

"Just asking. No reason".

"Mom, I'm not 8 any more. What's going on?" I demanded.

Her smile widened and she ruffled my hair.

"This is for Doug to tell you".



***



"Why don't you just tell me everything?" I wined at Doug after he had
stopped answering my questions again. "Why is this 'one tablespoons of
answers per day'?"

Every day he would tell me something new about man-to-man sex, answer a
couple of questions and that's about it. No matter how much a pleaded he
wouldn't budge once he had stopped answering. OK, thoroughly explained is
too far from experienced, and I wasn't getting that yet either.

"I just don't want to scare you, Sweetie" he answered "Trust me, I know
what I'm doing. Eat you vegetables."

Doug really can cook. I put a piece of carrot in my mouth and
absentmindedly noticed how good it was.

He had a point there. He had scared me, when he had let me know he was more
interested in putting his dick in my butt than in my mouth.

"This way" he had told me "I can enter you from both ways. My dick in your
butt and my tongue in you mouth."

"My butt's on my back. How would you kiss me while you're entering my
butt?" I had asked him. This really puzzled me. That was the main reason
for my stupidity in "no vagina" incident too. Woman's vagina's in front and
downside in the torso, so nether my mouth, nor my butt occurred to me as an
alternative.

"I have my ways" he smiled at me with hunger glimpsing in his eyes.

I looked at my plate while Doug looked at me across the kitchen table. Then
I asked.

"Doug, am I a whore?"

I jumped when his hand hit the table.

"What?! Where did you heard that?" he demanded.

"I overheard conversation of some 7-grades" I explained. "One of them told
his friends about that whore girl that couldn't get enough sex with him. He
called her 'whore' and 'bitch'. It sounded bad... I know 'bitch' is a bad
word already, but never herd it referred to sex. Am I like her?"

I looked at him, and saw his jaw was twitching with anger, but his eyes
softened.

"No, Sweetie, you are not. First of all to be a whore, you have to be a
girl. Do you wanna be a girl, wear girl's clothes, makeup, that kind of
thing?" he asked.

"NO!" I told him firmly and angrily. I didn't want to come anywhere near
that kind of stuff.

He nodded.

"Secondly, he meant "whore" and "bitch" as a girl that doesn't care about
who she makes sex with, just as long as she does it. Sex is what she thinks
all the time of. The difference between the two - a whore and a bitch -- is
that the bitch would do it for pleasure, and the whore - for
money. Although they both think all the time about sex".

I thought about that.

"I think about sex all the time..." I admitted doubtfully.

"Yes, Baby, but does it matter to you who are you gonna have sex with? Or
you just want to have sex. Would you do it with a complete stranger, the
bus driver for example or with someone you don't like, just to experience
the feeling?"

I thought about that for a long time.

"No" I said finally "as a matter of fact I don't want have sex with anyone
but you. And the bus driver is ugly" I added as an afterthought.

He laughed.

"No one but me? Not your gym teacher, not your science teacher. Not that
man in the gas station you were checking out today, when we stopped on the
way back from school?"

I just stared at him. Was he making fun of me?

"No" I went said angrily. "I don't want any of them! And I was looking at
that guy's muscles comparing them to yours!"

He grinned.

"And whose are bigger then?" he asked.

"His" I lied grimly to him.

I was doing it deliberately and he knew that. Making him angry meant he
would turn aggressive and possessive on me. I loved it. And he knew what
was asking for. His eyes sparkled, he jumped from his chair, grabbed me by
my shirt, swung me trough the air, dropped me at the kitchen counter,
smashed me against him and kissed me forcefully and possessively.

"You think?" he asked smugly when he broke the kiss, breathing hard. I was
trying to catch my breath too.

I just panted, trembling with desire in his arms. The heat of his body felt
so good... He smiled wolfishly down at me.

"Mine" he told me. He was so smug - and I was so busted...

"No, Baby, you are not a whore. You're just addicted. To me." I heard the
satisfaction in his voice. "And you are not sexually addicted to me only
because we haven't had sex yet. But I'm taking care of that soon enough" He
added. "I think once you get used to it you gonna turn up quite a
junky. Fortunately for you, I have the stamina satisfy a 12-years-old boy's
need of sex."

"What's a 'junky'?" I asked, suspecting I wouldn't like the answer.

"An addict" he said. "Like alcoholic. Like drug addict. Like sex
addict. Like BL addict. You are BL junky already." He said with a hint of
disapproval in his voice.

"I don't like that word" I said firmly. "And I'm not addicted to BL!"

It was so hard to be angry with him when his smell enveloped me. I was
barely holding not to press my lips against his skin and taste it. But when
I did that last time he jumped back like I pinched him and didn't touch me
for hours. He tasted bitter and sweet, like chestnut honey, with a trace of
salt. It was intoxicating. But I didn't want to be out of these arms, so I
behaved.

My words amused him.

"Yeah, right" he snorted. I didn't like where this was going. "You had been
doing fine at school and you'll do all home chores your Mum gave you
without even a hint of protest. You would bend backwards only not to have
your subscription canceled. Remember how you couldn't find your place when
your PC broke, fidgeting all the time? Remember you wanted to go to that
downtown's game club near the Mall to play? And that time you were so upset
you were gonna miss your raid you manage to forget that I absolutely to
forbade you to touch my desktop computer?"

He made his point, Darn him! OK, I was a BL junky, but I wasn't admitting
anything!

He chuckled at my grim expression.

"Fortunately for you, I don't mind much of your BL addiction. And I'm
rather pleased with you being so addicted to me." He added.

I have nothing to say. Sometimes, sometimes I wished I had the last word in
the argument, even once, with Doug at least. But he felt so good...

"I wanna see your dick now!" I swing the conversation in another
direction. Unexpected questions tend to get answers, I read somewhere. It
had been proven to be true for my experience. May be it is the same with
sudden demands?

He laughed again.

"No, Baby, I'm not showing for another week." Apparently it wasn't. "We
talked about it already. I don't want you scared. I don't want you to go
chicken on me in the last moment. You'll leave me no choice but to force
you. It'll be all yours to look at and play with after I take you. And
you're not sneaking on me again like you tried to do yesterday in the
shower" some anger sparkled trough his amusement glance.

I sighed.

Another week. Jeez!





Wolves eyes 2-2





The week passed. Doug was right about me chickening out at the end. I
somehow managed to fight my raising fear of what was coming, but my anxiety
was rising more and more. Fortunately my Mom seeing the signs decided I was
scared of Doug coaxing the truth about what was going on in my mind when we
were alone. But I turned all chicken at the end.

I was sitting shotgun in Doug's black SUW this time and staring at my
clasped hands I my lap almost all the drive to the cabin, answering
monosyllably Doug's questions.

In a while Doug stopped trying to make a small talk. The tension in the car
was gradually building up, I could sense it. Doug's smell - of rich
cologne, cigarette smoke, and varnish, and wood sawdust and tinge of sweat,
mixed with the spicy smell, that was only Doug's - was rising in air. This
time it was richer, mixed with the smell of his new black leather jacket
and something darker, predatory, musky and more carnal, treating to
suffocate me but in the same time calling to something deep inside
me. Probably it was just my nerves. I opened the side window and tried to
breathe more steadily, and relax, but it didn't help.

It was a two hours drive, but at the end of first hour Doug stopped at a
gas station. He got a pop from the vending machine at the door, and went
it. When he came back he was carrying whole paper bag with candies. He
handed me one and the can.

"Drink slow" he instructed me.

The can felt cold and soothing in my hand. Bubbles sizzled on my tongue and
it tasted a bit funny. Between the pop and a chocolate bar I relaxed enough
not to look like a kidnap victim but the worry was still there, a nervous
lump in my stomach.

We left the highway and drove on a road. Soon road turned from asphalt to
gravel, and then - to mud. At the end it was so narrow that I could touch
the leaves on the brunches from the both sides of the forest path, if the
windows were open. I was wandering what would Doug do it we have to pass
another car on that road.

I had never seen so many trees! There were miles and miles and miles of
forest. I opened the side window again and let the smell and sound of the
forest in. It was alien and wild. At some point I started worrying not to
be lost in those woods. I had pictured the woods around the cabin like some
of the bushes in the park or the small clusters of trees near the town, and
nothing like these 4 or 5-feet thick tree trunks, with their mossy furrowed
old bark. OK, I did watch TV and had seen the forests, but still, they were
unreal to me. You don't get the sound of the forest, or the smell of the
forest on TV, you just got pictures of far away places. And on TV you get
that idea of dancing sunlight on the leaves, rocking gently on the
breeze. You never got this old, dark, scary face of Mother Nature. Never
thought there is one like those woods in 2 hours drive from my house.

Doug made me put my light green jacket on. It wasn't particularly cold or
chilly, but it wasn't warm enough either. Mid autumn was turning occasional
leaf on the trees from green to yellow back in the city. Here the leaves
were all shades of yellow, orange and red. Autumn comes early in the
mountains, Doug had said.

The cabin was an ordinary single floor blockhouse from outside, made from
barked tree trunks, tucked between the bushes at one end of a small
clearing. Deep forest surrounded it, and despite the tine glass windows it
looked like we went 2 centuries back in the past. The old porch creaked
under ominously under our feet - me, leading the way to the heavy wooden
door and Doug following me too close behind with the bags to be
comfortable. I could feel his body heat with the hairs of my neck. It felt
like I had been stalked.

Suddenly I had the name for this wild, dark, isolated place. Werewolf's
hunting ground. And I walked right into it, with the even more dumb words
"Come out, Wolf, dinner is served".

When Doug's big hand landed on my shoulder I almost jump and looked up at
him. I don't know what was on my face, but he laughed, a bit wolfishly but
probably it was my nerves again, and said.

"I don't eat children, kid, no matter how good they taste under my tongue".

I blushed, gave up a nervous laughter, completely missing that he just had
called me "kid" again, and not "Baby" or "Sweetie".

He unlocked the door and let me inside. He put our bags on the floor and
told me he's gonna go and turn the generator on and chop some wood for the
fireplace, and that I'm free to look around.

I looked around. The interior of the cabin was anything but ordinary. I was
fascinated. The main room of the house was cleverly divided on 3 parts. The
floorboards were from some light tree, probably oak, sanded and varnished,
and covered with a wide, soft pile carped. Walls were covered with wooden
paneling from the same tree, I judged, but a shade lighter.

The kitchen area was separated my a counter, there was a small stove there
with some pots and pans, a cupboard and an old-fashioned sink with brass
taps and everything. A simple oak table and four chairs occupied the
dining-room area. There were 3 clay pots with Native American motifs on
painted on them on the table and a big clay cup, which, after further
examination appeared to be full with walnuts.

"This looks cool!" I exclaimed and turned to face him. He was sipping a few
drops of something in the pop can he was holding.

"What's that?"

"Your Mum's gonna kill me if you catch a cold here. This will keep you worm
until the heat's up" he told me. He was right it was chilly in here.

After handing me the can. I sipped it. It tasted like the last one -
nothing special. He went out and I went exploring.

The living-room part was divided from the rest of the room by worn, but
comfortable leather couch, facing the big fireplace. There was a think
white fleecy rug was spread on the wide empty space between the couch in
the fireplace. I suddenly had a very vivid vision of Doug having sex with
on that rug in front of the fire. I chased it away.

The bathroom, to my surprise was covered with light orange tiles. I almost
expected wooden panels there too. There was a big water heater, a small
light on which was already glowing. I listened up and herd the soft,
distant buzz of the generator.

There was a shower stall and an old-fashioned porcelain bathtub on brass
legs on the one end. Brass taps again. The sinks had been chosen in the
same fusion, and by it were hanging three huge white fluffy towels. They
smelled fresh and clean. The place looked surprisingly clean, no dust
anywhere, but it turned out Doug had come to clean up and make it ready for
me.

The bedroom contained one big two-sized bedstead with harm mattress. The
bed was aired and the white, cotton sheets smelled of the same freshener as
the towels. There was a big dresser and a chest of drawers, a nightstand
with a reading lamp. The wood paneling and all the furniture in the bedroom
were darker, probably chestnut three, but it somehow appealed to me... That
scene reassured me somehow... Or it may be it was the second pop with a
drop of something into it. I felt worm. No need to worry anymore. I was far
beyond any point of turning back, had been beyond it for a month now, since
the day I accepted Doug's conditions.

'So, here it was going to happen, hm?' I thought while listening to the
distant thumps of an ax spitting wood.



Doug entered the living-room with a handful of wood, which he made me
arrange by the fireplace while he was taking a shower. When he got out of
the bathroom I was putting the clothes from my bag into one of the chest
drawers. While he was showering I explored the content of the dresser. I
had found a pair of cut-off jeans and a checked shirt with crudely cut-off
in one of them. They seemed strangely appropriate for the occasion. Worn
blue material and the soft reddish cotton somehow fitted Doug's personality
like nothing I've seen him wear so far. The clothes bore the faint smell of
Doug's sweat and the cigarette smoke. He appeared in a vision in my mind in
these clothes, sitting on a stump, a pile of chopped woods beside, with
self-satisfied expression of job-well done. I seldom had seen him smoke -
usually it is after intense negotiations... Or after one of his
"happy-sessions" under the shower, where he was retreating, right after he
had given me a "kiss-treatment". He never does it in my presence, if we are
indoors.

I don't know what had taken me, but I got the clothes out of the dresser
and put them on the bed.

The sound of running water seized and in a few minutes I heard footsteps
behind me. I turned to look at him and my knees whet limp. He had let me
see him sweaty and shirtless, but nothing could compare with the masculine
beauty of the water drops glistening on his mulches and in his damp
hair. He raised a brow at me.

"You want me to wear these? This lumberjack outfit works for you?" he
asked. I dropped my eyes and blushed, as he intended.

He laughed.

"I'll get the fire going. You go take a shower and call me when you're
finished" he ordered

There was a half an hour blissful ignorance while I was enjoying the shower
- I love water - followed by another half an hour of deep-red embarrassment
while he helped me "get ready". That included me taking several gallons of
warm water in my butt. It had been called enema, he explained. And then
explained why I needed it. When we was drying me with the fluffy towel, I
promised myself that from now on I'm not letting him anywhere near me, when
I was "getting ready".

He looked at me under his brows, gave me a satisfactory half smile, that
made his scar curl, and handed me his sweaty t-shirt he was chopping woods
in. He answered my puzzled look with

"I will put the lumberjack outfit for you. Now you're wearing this for
me. Hands up."

I raised my hands and he put it on me. When he was wearing it looked like
the fabric gonna tear itself up under the tension of his muscles. It felt
like was wearing a sack.

He picked me up in one hand like I had no weight at all, snuggled me to him
and took me to the living room. He placed me on my back on the soft rug in
front of the fireplace and stretched himself beside me, propped on one
elbow, looking down on me. His huge hand scooped me tighter against him and
he gave me a gentle kiss. It was like the softest touch of lips, softest of
breaths in my face, while his clean, manly smell enveloped me. He looked at
me again then, and the hunger and the dark desire in his eyes frightened
me. Now I understood why he was so cautious with me, why would he go and
jack off in the bathroom after giving me an orgasm - avoiding my presence
at any means possible until he's not satisfied too, not letting me touch it
or even see it... His look told me he was taking me now, and he didn't give
a squad of what I think. It was really scary. My heartbeat picked up under
his gaze and my eyes must have widened a bit, but instead of folding and
giving me time so calm down, he smiled wolfishly and bent down again to
nuzzle my neck. He took a deep breath and let it out in satisfaction.

"I love my smell on your skin" he purred in my neck, and closed his mouth
against it.

His teeth touched my skin and I gasped, terrified. This aroused him even
more, he tugged the t-shirt, until my naked shielded popped open of the
neck opening, and he was sucking it hard, drinking his own sweat off my
skin. His hand tore the buttons of his shirt and his bare chest was out. In
one swift movement he grabbed the neckline of his sweaty t-shirt and tore
it open and then crushed me against his chest... I was unable to move,
scared beyond reason of his violent passion. His lips moved, his tongue,
leaving a trail of sizzling hot saliva on my skin, up to my neck, he's
teeth closed around my Adam's apple, his tongue just touching it. In that
moment, in the top of my fear I came in his arms, arching in convulsions,
but he rolled on top of me, pressing me into the rug. Pressing me into the
floor, he scooped my tiny hands in one huge palm, grabbed the back of my
neck for a better grip and sucked deep. His teeth almost sinking into my
open throat, and suddenly, in the middle of the orgasm it quadrupled. Then
he snaked his teeth in the base of my neck, sucking, then in my shoulder
again, then in my breast, while I was trembling with the aftershocks. Then
he went up to my mouth, and bit my lower lip, suck it, bit it again. His
tongue entered my mouth almost forcefully then he bit again, sucking,
drinking feeding on me. I was crushed and trapped, absolutely helpless
under this mountain of a man, completely at his mercy, and he was getting
the most of it, satisfying his lust with the helpless boy in his arms.

"No turning back now." He whispered to me between the bites, so soft that
the trail of his teeth was barely visible, but hard enough on my sensitive
skin to keep me on the verge of my sheer stark terror. "You are mine now"
he was whispering to me. "Your skin is so sweet. It tastes good enough to
eat. So smooth, hairless, soft, it smells like a fresh, young meat.  I
can't get enough of you. I'll never get enough of you. What were you
thinking, my little lamb? You came to me - you came on your own into the
Big Bad Wolf's paws, and told him "Eat me". Did you think he would spare
you out of pity?"

His teeth on my throat again, and I was dry-cumming for a second time,
trembling in his hands from pure terror. And the sensation was too much for
me to bear. My heart was hammering in my chest wanting out, and suddenly my
chest refused to rise, to rise up and take another breath... Black spots
danced in front my eyes and my vision dimmed, and suddenly Doug's mouth was
there, covering mine, forcing a breath of air down my lungs and kissing me
in the same time. The air escaped through my nose, but it was enough. I
started breathing again, gasping and panting. When the world came back into
focus I was staring in his eyes. He was looking down at me with such
self-satisfaction and smugness that I almost went into a panic attack
again.

"Oh, no" he told me, enjoying immensely having me in his mercy "You are not
passing out on me. I'm not through with you" and bent down kissing me
forcefully, but a little less intense, and he wasn't biting anymore seeing
the magnitude of my reaction to the bites. Gradually the force of his
kisses subsided, they become more tender and gentle, he moved a bit, to
leave me some breathing space and laid beside me, probed on one elbow, my
head resting on his huge arm. He broke the kiss and looked down on me, his
other hand correcting my body, my chest, tummy, my legs. He bent down again
and gave me a lazy kiss that seemed to me lasted for ages, like he was
enjoying tasting me on his tongue for as long as he liked.

Suddenly I realized that his hand was on my butt, and one of his big
fingers was playing with my ring, threatening to enter me any second. I was
unable to pay attention to anything else he was doing with my body while he
was kissing me. I tensed in panic.

"Shhhh" he crooned to me and nuzzled my neck. "Shhhhh, it's alright, Baby,
it's all right. Relax. Let it go. My Baby boy, who never been kissed by a
man. Never been touched by a man, never had a man's hands on his body but
mine. Never had worn a man's scent on his skin... So innocent, so
fragile. All mine for taking. Relax, Baby, give it up. Let it go. Give it
to me. I'll take care of you. Give it to me, Baby."

I felt him smear some grease over my but-hole, without entering yet, and
there, pressed against my leg was something big and hard and red-iron-hot,
something what was stalking me, waiting for me to be distracted again by
the mountain-man's kiss to pounce and strike. My eyed widened and I tried
frantic to see what it was, but the arm under my neck tightened, muscles
bulged immobilizing me in iron grip and he chuckled softly, fixing me with
his lustful gaze. He bent down slowly, keeping me frozen, letting me know
how hungry for my young flesh he was. He bit my lower lip and sucked hard.

"Mine" he growled and resumed his feeding frenzy, sucking my lip almost
painfully.

I was hard again for third time in half an hour may be, I had totally lost
count of time, and this time there was dull pain in my stiffness.

He broke the kiss again and his mouth moved lower. His tongue liked my
neck, played with my nipple... His teeth nibbled playfully my breast and
were gone again. When his tongue entered my belly-button I gave a soft
moan.

Under his clever finger my ring was relaxing like me - melting under his
lust. Doug had told me once that knowledge of someone's desire for you is
the greatest aphrodisiac.

And then his mouth left my belly went lower and then...

It felt like I've been hit but a giant wave of pleasure. My head was
spinning again, my mind fogged by fear, but more - with desire. I wasn't
noticing was playful finger, teasing my ring until it was too late.

He dug deep, with one movement entering me full. His rough, calloused
finger moved, scratching inside me, and then he touched for a second
something in me and my head exploded with the most intense pleasure I had
ever felt. My whole body hardened, and he grunted with delight, found the
spot again and started playing with it sending waves of pleasure all over
my body. I came for the third time, but my cocklet refused to go soft. Not
under the caress of his tongue, not while he was playing with my
joy-spot. It started really to hurt now. I never had felt so exhausted in
all my life.

He stopped teasing me then, moved back up, scooped my head in his arm an
kissed me softly.

His finger was sliding in and out me now, and every time it rubbed against
my pleasure spot I twitched under his hand. My lower lip felt puffy and
sore of his sucking, but didn't matter now, nothing mattered, but that
constant, huge, unbelievable wave of pleasure that was threatening to
overwhelm me again.

His finger left me, I moaned, feeling almost painfully empty. But his thumb
entered me then. It was thicker, rougher and shorter. It hurt again for a
while, but this hurt subsided too.

Then that empty feeling again, and this time two fingers entered me. I
cried from the pain, but he crooned to me softly and started playing with
my spot again, so I forgot the pain in my ring, in my cockle, in my numb
body.

After a while, probably ages, his fingers left me again. He lifted my body
to put a soft pillow beneath me. He shifted over me, grabbed my hands with
one fist and held them above my head. I was too far gone now to consciously
register anything, but part of me probably sensed what was coming, cos I
tried to close my numb legs and to refuse him access to my body. He
switched my mind off again with a kiss, so I hadn't felt the strong hand
parting my legs, and then he lowered himself to me. When the kiss broke and
I could half think again my legs were awkwardly dangling in the air, but I
felt the strong hand rounded one around his waist and the other
instinctively followed. Then the red-iron-hot monster poked my but cheek,
leaving a trail of hot liquid on my skin.

That sobered me completely and the terror grabbed me again.

"Shhhhhhh" he crooned to me, his eyes lit with dark fire of hunger and
lust. "It won't be now. Don't worry. I won't enter you now. I just want to
rub it against your hole. I'll only rub it bit."

With his reassurance I relaxed a bit and felt the beast touch my ring and
brush against it.

He grunted with pleasure, his eyes half shut.

Then the beast returned. I felt fingers. I tensed a bit, but a finger slid
into me for a second and was gone, until I could moan by both pain from the
sudden intrusion and pleasure. He started rubbing the beast hard against
the skin of my cheeks, guiding it with his hand, brushing from time to time
at my ring. He was looking down on me with wolfish, predatory grin, eyes
full of lust. His face was sweaty and glistening, but this sweat had
nothing to do with the fireplace just a few feet from us. One drop rolled
from his nose and fell on my lips. My tongue shot all by itself and licked
it. Salt and musk and man. I was hard again.

The beast was prodding now, rubbing closer and closer, circling like a
shark my buttock, but he wasn't entering yet.

"You'll give it to me, right?" he asked in a low, husky voice, breathing
hard in my face "You'll give me your cherry? Your untouched by a man's hand
cherry. You'll give it to me, to pop it. You want me to pop your cherry,
Baby. You want it so bad that it hurts you. You want me, you came to me, by
your own will, unsuspecting what I have in store for you, you came to me to
take you virginity. You came to me, despite all your fear, you came to me
so innocent, so ignorant, and so full of desire that even my kisses would
make you come. You came to me. You want it. I can feel you responding, I
can feel you opening to me. Give it to me, Baby. Open up. Let me pop the
sweetest cherry in the World. Take it. My little lamb."

And with those word the Beast struck.

I thought I had known pain. I was wrong. There was nothing, nothing I could
compare those waves of red agony to. I let out a choked cry, tried to tense
my muscles, to close my ring, to free my hands, to push him away. But the
lower part of my body wasn't listening to me, just twitching in pain, my
ring wouldn't close, the Beast's head was already inside me, tearing me
apart, my hands were grabbed in the big man's iron grip, tears ran down my
face and I tried to cry cried 'No, no more, get it out, it hurts, I can't
take it!' His face was too close to mine and I aimed at it with my
forehead, but missed, and in that moment came another thrust, the Beast
wanted more, wanted to go deeper, to consume everything. The pain thrusted
my head back. It banged on the floor and the hit added sparks to the red
agony. Big man's muscles pressed my upper body into the rug, and I tried to
bite, I sank my teeth into someone's neck, I couldn't see anything but red,
couldn't feel anything but pain... a giant's hand closed around my throat,
treating to suffocate me, red hot lips kissed away my tears, a mouth closed
over mine to muffle my cries, a tongue penetrated me. I tried to bite, but
the fingers on my neck tightened, crushing my resistance. The Beast
fed. One part of him was drinking all my pain and desperation, the other -
consuming me from inside, ravaging on my intestines, eating me alive, until
it as all inside me, consumed me all, tore the small body apart and was
feasting on my naked soul. And inside that hurricane of red-hot-pain there
was another hurricane - of pleasure. The two roared inside me,
intermingled, changing places on the surface in split seconds. And then the
Beast grew bigger, his size quadrupled and he started pumping in me with
hot liquid, giving me back the pleasure he had stolen. And my body answered
again, answered to the Beast's call, answered with pain and pleasure. The
shock was too much for me. My vision dimmed again and I switched out.



I woke up back to my senses on the fourth morning, surrounded by the smell
of clean sheets and the bitter-sweet musky smell of Doug, snuggled against
the warmth of his bare muscles, my head resting on his shoulder, his hand
possessively holding me tight against him. I remembered the Beast and all
my body tensed. The soft droll of his voice that had pulled me out of the
black depths where I had hidden the last few days stopped. I vaguely
remembered firm orders to drink, and to feed. I vaguely remembered the
Beast's return, over and over again, when my body involuntary called for
it. A few times coming to feed uninvited - pain gradually subsiding with
every feeding, leaving only the pleasure at the end. I tried to fight the
first few times, I think, and failed. .

I blinked at the sunlight pouring through the window

"Welcome back" Doug said softly.

I sighed and looked up at him.

His eyes, that astonishing blue color that caught me the first time I saw
him, was tender and soft. And there was a faint glitter of guilt and worry.

'Worried. About me.' This warmed me immensely. I never had someone to worry
about me beside my Mum, not really, not in that close, almost family
manner. No one cared about me that way. I had only my Mum, and she had only
me. But now Doug cared. What does this mean? And what did the other think
mean - all that happened?

My body relaxed against his.

He had me now. He had taken me. The dull throb in my butt was telling me
that, and visions of what had happened surfside in my drifting mind. I
registered almost absentmindedly that I couldn't remember very clear what
had happened, not in detail. My sensors had been overloaded with the
sensations he had given me. It was done now. I felt my head emptying again
of thoughts, and tried to focus. I didn't want to let my mind switch off
again.

The worry and the guilt in the blue eyes were deepening. Something else
appeared. Fear? Question? Both? What would he ask and feared my answer? I
looked for a signs in his face, but it was closed up. No answers to my
questions there. He was keeping quiet, waiting for me to speak first. And
his tension told me that it was up to me to handle things this time.

I'm bad at reading people. I'm bad at reading men. I wasn't so bad now at
reading this man. He might had laughed at me for it - 'Life is nothing like
the books, Baby, you can't find your answers there' - but most of my
knowledge about people came that way. At least the important parts. And all
this felt too much like something I have already read. The tension. The
fear from the answer. And then I knew what he was afraid to ask me - Do I
regret my choice?

I didn't regretted it. OK, it hurt, but would it be different if it were
someone else instead of Doug? No. I felt it wouldn't. OK, I was
ignorant. But I felt I wouldn't believe any description of the bad parts -
not with my hunger for men driving me toward them. I would have done it,
sooner or later. I wanted it too much. I wanted to be Doug, but if it
hadn't been him, if he wouldn't want me, there would be someone else on his
place. As ignorant as I had been I would have find my way, with or without
his help and would give myself to a man. I had been half crazed with
desire, I would have gone and find a place that someone would have done it
same to me... Probably it would have been one of the Evil men. I wanted it,
no matter that I hadn't known at that time what it meant. Well, now I
new. Did the pain change anything? Probably. Would the knowledge how much
it would hurt make me refuse? But how would I know without experiencing it?

Do I wish now it didn't happened?

Do I, really? I had no idea. This was adult question, and it demanded an
adult answer. And what I did when I needed to be adult? State the question
to an adult - My Mum, or Doug or a teacher, as a last resort. From the
whole three only one was available, and this one was asking me the adult
question. So I went to my second option - what would my favorite hero or
heroin would do.

Unfortunately for me no easy answers there either. My third option was
being practical. I don't do practical. Don't know how to yet. But my
favorite heroin does practical very well.

'I knew I was getting the better deal, and told him "Done", before he could
take it back.' The words from the books I partly knew by hearth just
appeared in my head.

So was I getting the better deal? Safety, shelter, care... And lets face
it, he was the most handsome man in the World. I just had gotten the man I
lusted over for months. He just had given me my first and strongest sexual
fantasy - the wolf and the lamb. OK, it was his sexual fantasy too
apparently, but I somehow doubted he had had it before I told him about
it. And I had... how many orgasms? Four, five? I didn't remember, but the
memory of the titanic waves of pleasure was there. And he had just one?
Would all that would stand countered with the pain? I remembered the pain -
red and overwhelming.

Yeah, it stood. I wish the pain didn't happened. But everything else I was
fearsly glad for.

 I looked at him for a long time.

"You knew it's gonna be like that, didn't you?" were my first
words. "That's why you wouldn't take me back at home. That's why you needed
to take me here."

"Even I hadn't expected such strong reaction. You were like an automaton
the last three days" he said.

He looked guilty and worried, the question was still there, but didn't left
his lips. Well, apparently I wasn't the only chicken in the room. But my
relaxed body pressed against his should be an answer enough.

"How are you feeling" he asked instead.

"My butt hurts" I told him.

He gave up a reluctant laugh.

"Yeah, I guess it is." He looked at me and there were tender and softness
in his eyes, mixed with guilt. "I should have left you alone. But you body
responded to my touch and it was too much to me, not after... After tasting
you. I'm afraid you'll be very sore for a few days."

He leaned down and kissed me softly, a soft brush of his lips on mine, as
if he was asking if it was ok with me. The lips withdrew, but when mine
followed, he pushed back down and his tongue entered my mouth. We kissed
for long time. When our lips parted we both were panting.

"Wanna see it?" he asked and removed the blanked.

The Beast was huge - hard and hot and ready for me to see it. Ready to
feast on me again. I just gaped at it, unable to believe that this
monstrosity had been in me. But the dull pain in my butt told me that, yes,
he had been in there, more than once. It was as thick as my wrist, and
almost as long as my forearm it seemed. Later I would measure it with a
ruler and would find out that it was 9" long, cut, slightly curved with big
vanes, pumping blood in the huge pointy purple head. It was rock hard and,
as if a response to my fear, it started leaking pre-cum from its hole.

"Touch it" Doug whispered in my ear.

It took a long time for my trembling fingers to reach out and touch the
Beast and it twitched, like it was about to jump me, startling me. I
touched it again, felt his hardness, tried to close my fingers around him
and failed. Doug gave a low moan of pleasure. His big hand closed on mine
over the Beast. He started moving slowly my hand up and down over the
Beast's body. I wasn't able to drown my eyes away from the clear liquid
that was pumping out in steady beats out of its head. His thumb ran over
the head, brushed a drop of the liquid, he released my hand to bring the
drop to my face, hiding the beast from view. His thumb ran over my lips
smearing the drop of precum and then went for more. I couldn't resist the
instinctive urge to lick my lips. The taste hit me like eclectic shock, but
I couldn't pinpoint it, so when his thumb returned with another drop and
tried to smear it on my cheek I turned my head and close my mouth over it
and sucked hard. I had never tasted anything more delicious in my life. It
was better than sweets, better than vanilla ice-cream, better then
honey-covered melon, better even than chocolate.

He moaned, pulled his thumb out of my mouth, and the hand that was stroking
my back gently, the hand I was snuggled under, reached up, cupped the back
my head and guided me slowly toward the Beast who twitched menacingly.

My body tensed in fear, but my face was getting closer and closer to the
giant purple head. It was waiting for me, calling me. I remembered in
terror the Beast's vicious hunger, how it was revenging my body and tried
to fight the forcing hand, that was pushing me closer and closer. I was
panting, hypnotized by the giant purple head, unable to withdraw my hands
although my fingers were frozen in death-fear's grip on the shaft, I was
left without any other resistance than pushing back against the hand
driving me to the monster. I panted and the smell of the Beast filled my
nostrils and my lungs, and I knew then, that it wasn't the smell of Doug
that was holding me into its grip all there months, it was the smell of the
beast - musk and man and sex... I was breathing sex and man. I tried to
resist with all my 12 years old might, to push the hand back but it was all
in vain. The push stopped when the Beast was an inch from my eyes but the
grip on my head was holding me there in place. Then the other huge hand
hidden from my view up to then appeared. The thumb brushed more of the
clear sex juice and smeared it on my lips again. I couldn't do anything but
lick them. Again and again. Every time the thumb was back I pressed my lips
tight together, but then licking the Beast's nectar from them. Then the
hand stoked my face gently, and then the thumb and the fourthfinger just
parted my lips, opening my mouth and keeping it open, while the middle
finger would take a drop of the liquid and place it on my tongue. Each time
my tongue was more and more eager for the taste and then I realized what
the Beast was doing. It seducing me, taming me, tying me, addicting me to
the taste - so I would come not only when it would call for me, but I would
come all by my own and ask for more. The Beast had absolute control over
me. When the index finger stopped feeding me sex-juice and the muscles
under my head shifted to the head of the Beast was almost on the line with
my parted lips, ready to enter, my tongued darted all by itself. The taste
exploded on my tasted-buds, and crushed down all my defenses. I bent my
head by my own and took the Beast's head in my mouth, sucking and licking
it. Doug hissed and his voice hit me like whip.

"No teeth!"

I tried I really did, but it was hard, the head was so big!

"That's it" his voice softened. "Good boy. Now lick it like a
lollypop. Mmmmmmm. Now try to move your tongue around the head. No, not
like that. Don't try to push it around against your teeth. Work your tongue
around it."

It didn't work. I kept trying to do as I was told for several minutes, but
achieved nothing.. Not until I subconsciously found how I should do
it. Jaws spread wide, so my teeth wouldn't touch the sensitive head of the
Beast, but lips closed firmly around its shaft, and then make the monster
worked it by its own, pressing it to my tongue - using the shaft as a tool
to roll it around the giant head.

The Beast started leaking even more man's nectar and I sucked deep, wanting
to drink every single drop out the head of the monster. The huge man
moaned. His hand took hold on the back of my head on my head and he pressed
me further down on his shaft. It didn't go far, another inch more may be
until the head hit back on my throat, effectively blocking it - and trying
to go even further. I gagged and instinctively tried to pull away. He kept
me there, held my head with both hands. Suffocating me with his dick kept
me on it. I was gagging and trying to cough. My lungs started burning from
lack of air and tears ran down my face. The whip voice was cracking
commands but I couldn't hear them.

"Breath trough your nose!" shouted at me passed trough the fear and the
suffocation, and I took a long shaky breath. But the hands weren't
releasing. I felt the head twitch under the spasms of my throat, grew even
bigger and started pumped a hot thick creamy blast down my throat. The
hands pressed me even tighter against the sweaty muscles of the man's flat,
hard stomach. The blast of cum ran down the wrong way, since I was still
trying to breath hard and instead suffocating I was drowning now. Drowning
in Doug's cum. My lungs spasmed again at that point and I coughed the cum
out thru my nose. I couldn't swallow - to swallow you have to have your
tongue free even a tiny bit so it can move back with that natural gulping
motion. The head of the Beast was on its way. But after I coughed out the
second blast of cum trough my nose, Doug released his grip of my head only
that tiny bit that would allow me to gulp. I swallowed and swallowed until
the Beast stopped erupting - it felt like an eternity. But it didn't
soften, I found in surprise. The Beast was staying hot, and hard, and
ready. Later I found out that it wouldn't soften - not like my cockled
would after an orgasm - not until cumming for a third of forth time. Doug
could go for hours. And when my body strengthen a bit, he would. He would
cum for the first time fast, a few strokes after entering me, and then, his
hunger for my body partially satisfied he would play with it at his
leisure.

Doug gathered all the sperm he could from my face with the head of the
monster and fed it back to me. It tasted even more intoxicating than his
precum - rich, and dark, and sweet and bitter in the same time with a faint
trace of salt. What he couldn't, he smeared on my face and hair. Then he
pulled me up to him, leaned over me, his face so close to mine that it
almost touched it. His nostrils flared breathing in with deep long breaths
the smell of his cum on my skin.

"Now you belong to me entirely" he told me in a low husky whisper. His big
hand closed over my neck, and I felt the hesitating strength there like he
was wondering if not to strangle me. "Not even to me," he told me "but to
my dick. You are his. Your place is there, onto him, trembling and
twitching. From the moment I saw you I knew I'll have you there impaled on
it at the end. That I would lure you, trick you, drug you even, but I'll be
popping your sweet cherry. I didn't have to work all that hard, you know. I
could have taken you in that closet, several months back. But if I did, you
wouldn't come back for more, not on your own. I wanted YOU to come to
me. And now you belong to my dick. I have taken you virginity and would
erase every single trace of that sweet aroma of youth and innocence from
your body and will replace it with the smell of my dick. Of my cum. I will
bathe you in my cum."

His words didn't even registered as soon as his hand closed over my neck I
started dry-cumming too and was still trembling with the aftershocks when
he gave me a deep, possessive, hungry kiss.

Then he picked me up, took me to the bathroom and bathed me, dried me and
took me back to bad, tugged me into him, tucked me under his arm against
his massive body and resumed what he was doing when I had come back to my
senses a few hours earlier. He read to me "Hunting Ground" by Patricia
Briggs.



"Doug, am I a bitch now?" I asked the bare chest muscles I was using as a
pillow when the reading stopped to turn for a page to be turned.

I could hear feel the vibrations of the rumbling laugh in his chest, and as
he stroked my hair.

"Why?" he asked and amusement and joy rang in his voice. "Because you can't
let go of my dick?"

The Beast was close to full hardness in my hand. He wanted me. I craved to
be wanted this bad.  I just couldn't bring myself to let it go.

"Does this bother you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I don't want to be a bitch."

He laughed again.

"Technically specking, kid, you can't be a bitch, even if you wanted. A
bitch in heat is a female dog that has been trailed my dozens of male
dogs. They would fight among themselves for the right to fuck the
female. The scent of the female's heat drives them crazy of lust, you
see. So, you can't be a bitch. Your scent and heat for me drives ME crazy
but I can control myself well enough to turn the table, and to have you
trailing me instead. If I remember correctly I've been the one driving you
crazy with desire for months. I tricked you to follow me here, where I can
claim you for mine. I was the one that addicted you, so I can have you
whenever it pleases me. And, being a quite territorial, I made sure you are
bound to my dick now, so no trails of horny men after you. So, no,
technically, I'm the bitch, luring innocent boys and leading them astray
with the promises of good fuck. But as you can judge by the tool you're
holding in your hand, I'm can't be called "a bitch" either."

The Beast hard now, and by the end of his words Doug's hand closed around
my neck and guided me down. I opened my mouth obediently and closed my lips
around the shaft.

"Good boy" a husky voice rang into my ears, full of satisfaction and dark
promises. Once securing me onto the shaft, the hand lifted from my neck and
started petting my hair, leaving me to explore.

I started with the rolling motion I found the Beast liked so much earlier
and the giant man moaned with pleasure.

"Stroke it a bit, while you're doing that" he growled.

I obeyed.

"Try to twist the skin around it" he instructed.

I tried, but apparently I wasn't doing it right. His other hand closed over
mine stilling and softening my moves.

"That's it. Just like that" the man said and the hand withdrew.

"Mmmmmmmm" he sighed. "Good boy. I'm gonna teach you everything you need to
know to please me. You like that? You like holding my dick?" he asked in a
low voice.

My mouth was full with the giant head so I could only grunt in agreement.

He chuckled.

"Good boy." Those words were like a cares, sending tingles trough my
body. "You feel soooo nice!"

He gave another moan of pleasure. I did what I was told for a few minutes,
but then stopped and took the head out of my mouth and looked at it - big,
red, shiny with my saliva and drooling precum. My tongue darted and I
licked the drop of the clear liquid from the piss-slot, and then tried to
enter it, searching for more. His body tensed, he groaned loudly with
pleasure, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me away.

"Don't do that!" he chided. "I don't wanna cum yet."

He released my head and I resumed my exploration. I started licking the
head like it was an ice cream, which apparently pleased the Beast, because
the head grew and started pulsing even stronger, and the precum started
running out like a steady stream. I looked up at his face, searching for
approval, and my glance traveled trough his tense, heavy-muscled body, his
six-pack, than the two big iron ball of his chest, his bulging shoulders,
glistening on the sunbeams falling trough the window, his thick neck, and
square jaw with the dimple and another one, on his marked cheek, the scar
curled by his crooked smile, the dreamy, eager expression of dark delight
glowing in his eyes. He was following my every move with the lazy hunger
sparkling trough his lowered eyelids.

"So innocent" purred the giant above me. The strokes on my hair become more
intense, rougher. "All mine to corrupt."

As if in response of his lust which echoed in my mind, fogging it, the
tidewave of the same dark desire rose in me. He saw my reaction and his
heat rose in answer.

The hand grabbed my hair again and he shoved my face in the base of his
shaft, bearing my nose in the thick bush of black pubic hair. He just held
me there, at the source of his man-smell, to breathe the lust steaming out
from his body.

"Play with my balls" he instructed still holding my face buried into his
crouch, his other hand reached down and pressed The Beast hard against my
cheek, smearing the man-juice over it. I was panting, but so was he. When
my trembling fingers touched his hot scrotum, with nuts with the size of
tennis balls, he pulled me by the hair.

"Open up!" he snapped at me and as I parted my lips he guided the head
toward my mouth, and stopped me with a pull of my hair again when it was
half in.

"Close your lips!" he snapped again. "Drink! Drink it all!" he groaned, his
whole body tensed and the Beast started feeding me his cum.

The first thick blast hit the back to my trough, and I barely managed to
swallow it, but I didn't want that. I didn't want him to pump all his juice
directly in my throat, past my tongue, without letting me feel the most
delicious taste in the world, so I covered his piss-slot. Heavy, thick,
rich blasts of ran down my tongue, sending fireworks in my brain. I drank,
drank hungrily, drank it all, and when blasting stopped I sucked, wanting
every drop of the male ambrosia, licking the sensitive tip of the head of
the beast trying to enter the piss-hole, to reach for more. The sensation
was too much again and I find myself trembling in the shockwaves of the
orgasm.

When I stopped shaking he ordered to me to lick the Beast clean with so
much satisfaction and dark delight in his voice that it almost gave me
another erection. And the Beast haven't subsided - it was still hard and
stiff, and hungry for my touch, my lips, my tongue, my body.

"You are finishing me all too quickly" the giant told me, and there was a
mild displeasure mixed with proprietary satisfaction in his voice. "Let it
go now."

I release my grip over the shaft of the monster. He pulled me up and kissed
me deeply.

"You taste of dick" he told me, pleased and smug.

"Lay down for now" he ordered. "We'll continue later."

I huddled under his armpit, resting my head on his shoulder. He pressed me
closer to his body and picked up the book again.



"You are too sore yet" Doug told me a few hours later, when I asked him
shyly and with a bit of fear in my voice when he's going to enter my butt
hole again.

"It's my fault really" he told me with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "My
dick can't be easily taken even by a grownup and you're a small boy."

The "small boy" part flashed my temper and he laughed.

"Your body is small, Baby, and you have been very brave, but still, I'm too
big, and you are very, very tight. You are the tightest think I ever
entered and it is amazing." He ended up huskily and I saw he was fighting
against his hunger for my tightness. "You fit me as a velvet glove; I just
couldn't get enough of you. So when your mind was out and your body only
responding to my touch I couldn't help but enter you again and again."

His jaw twitched he get out of the bed and turned his back to me. I could
see the tightness in his shoulders. My closeness to him, the touch of skin
and the memories had driven him to the edge. One more sentence and he would
have driven the monster into where it belonged up to the hilt - sore or
not, it wouldn't matter, he would have fucked my brains out.

"So, you are sore. And now when you recovered from the shock and I could
take you in other ways, we are not doing it until your butt hole recovers
enough." He continued after a while and his hunger subsided a bit, but I
still could hear it in his voice, "Enough to bare it. It'll sill be painful
I expect. I was really surprised that there wasn't any blood, that you
don't need stitching up. You need to get used to the pain, and I can't wait
for you to be grow up enough to take me. It will be months, I suspect,
until you'll be able to take me without the pain, if ever. And I'm not
skipping that part. So, I brought you here. Back in the city there were too
many people to get in the way, and..." he was breathing hard now, his fists
clenched.

"I won't tolerate anything in the way between my dick and your butt-hole."
He growled and went out of the room before he would lose control entirely.

After I recover, there wouldn't be anything keeping him away from me, I
realized. Not school, not Mom, not BL, nothing. I belonged to the Beast
now, and the Beast was always hungry.



Doug had brought paperback copies of all werewolf books I've been listening
to over and over the last months. I was laying beside him, huddled against
his wonderful muscled body, listening with astonished amazement to his deep
voice while he was reading them out loud. This mountain of a man, this
giants, this Beast, so hungry for my body, once contented and satisfied his
immediate need for sex, would scoop me against him and READ to me. He had
loads of things he could be doing. He was away from his job, not
supervising his business! But instead of shouting at people on the phone,
or work on his laptop, or go chop woods or something that extremely male
machos are suppose to be doing... he was reading to me. As if reading to me
was the most important thing in the World. And as if it wasn't enough, he
was feeding me chocolate and ice-cream! He was spoiling me rotten! I felt
so safe and happy that it almost hurt. I sniffed once and he put the book
away. His big callosity hand took my chin and raised my face up to him to
look and my watering eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked me softly, and I finally let go the tears that
were pressing to run free for the last half an hour. I sniffed again and
blinked, wriggled out of his hand and hid my face in his chest. His hand
pressed me tighter to his chest, digging in my hair stroking my head
gently. He hold me all the time I cried silently in his chest, but when I
calmed down at last he lifted my head again and asked me again. There was
worry in his eyes.

I tried to explain while fighting not to start crying again.

"I feel..." but the words failed me. I tried again "I'm just so
happy... Just... No one ever read to me..." my voice trailed again.

He gave me the crooked smile that curled his scar and it gave me another
sharp painful stab of happiness. His eyelids
lowered. Triumph. Enjoyment. Smugness. Delight. Proprietary pleasure.

"You like when I'm reading to you?" he asked in deep purr.

"This is the best thing that has ever happened to me, but I can't
understand why you're doing it" I answered in honest surprise.

"Well, I wanted to make my pet happy".

My bottom jaw dropped. I couldn't believe my ears! What was I to him, a
puppy?!?

"Your PET?!?" I asked in incredulous voice at that outraging thought.

His eyes sparkled.

"You prefer 'boy-toy'?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Was he making FUN of me?!?

He laughed wholeheartedly, scooped me against him and playfully bit my
neck.

"But you are!" he told me. "You are my sex-toy. MY sex-toy. I just have
this habit of taking very good care of my toys. You don't wanna be my
sex-toy?" his voice darkened, came out low and husky. He rolled me over, so
he came on top of me, locked my hands in iron grip above my head and
lowered his head, breathing hard in my face. "You don't want to accept me
in you anymore? Hmmmm?" I could feel the Beast, hard and ready to dine upon
me again. I was angry with him, I tried to struggle, to resist, to brake
free, but was a fruitless effort.

"What's the matter, Boy?" his hand reached down and parted my legs and
moved in, crushing any attempt of mine of pressing them together, of
denying him access. "You don't want to be a property? You changed your
mind, may be? Too late for that now, Boy. I have taken you for mine. I
popped you sweetest, tightest, velvet cherry, and I'm not giving up fucking
you now. Not now, not ever."

The hand moved below my whist and he adjusted me under him. I was still
trying to resist, but my body was in fire too, and he felt it.

"You" he told me "you belong to my dick now. You will belong to him
forever, because it was what cracked you open. Even if you somehow manage
to run away you'll never be able to forget it." The head of the Beast was
rubbing against my ring now and it hurt. "You forever will be comparing
your every sexual experience to this. Your master will always follow you,
it'll be in your mind and you won't be able to hide from it. No matter how
much you'll run, you'll always know where is you place. Where you
belong. You can't avoid it, you can't escape it, no matter how much you
fight it. Not that I'll allow you to fight or run away." His hand was
between my legs again, greasing the monster and then my ring. I flinched
from the touch and tried to wriggle out from under him.

"Oh, no!" he told me. "Don't even think about it." He growled in my face as
his finger slid into me and instantly found my pleasure spot.

"Let me go!" I shouted at him... but it came back to ears as a horse
whisper, full of pleasure, and desire.

"Never. Every day of the rest of your life, Boy, I'll be fucking you. I'll
be taking you from school, waiting in the car, hard and ready, to drive you
to my home, to my bed, and there, Boy, there I'll be savaging your body
again and again. I worked for this for too long to let it go now. I don't
give a shit about if you want it or not. You don't have a saying now. I
gave you your chance, I warned you, and you still have chosen this. You're
mine. You belong on my dick. Now be a good Boy and open up."

The finger slid out man-mountain trusted forward. I tried to deny him
entrance again, to close myself before him, but my resistance hadn't lasted
even a second. I cried out of shock and pain, and my ring involuntary
opened, trying to escape the pain of the invasion. There was no escaping
the enormous, sleek, greased head of the monster. But the soon and my ring
closed behind it the thrust stopped and he just had me there, under him,
onto him gasping for breath, my whole body shivering of the shock of the
invasion. The pain wasn't as bad as the first time, and, as used and abused
and sore my butthole was, it wasn't THAT bad especially since the giant was
giving me time to adjust.

'He had thought me how accept it' a passing thought crossed my mind.  'In
those four days of semi-consciousness, he told my body how to accept him,
he even had made me enjoy it' Not the pain, I realized then, looking into
his dreamy, half-shut eyes, full of lust and pleasure. There was a part of
me that loved being possessed, being his toy, his property, his instrument
for sexual satisfaction. No one can enjoy the pain. But he made me enjoy
being his despite the pain. And then I knew what was turning him on. He had
found about my irresistible desire for him, to belong to him fully in every
aspect and manner, to be sheltered, protected, safe and cherished, to
belong - a craving so strong that I was willing to pay price this
high... and the fear of him hurting me hitting me, braking me, crushing
me... That's why he enjoyed love-bites that much. Because they raised my
fear.

He saw the stunned realization in my eyes, and it pleased him immensely.

"That's right" he told me. "But I won't break you. I won't break my
favorite toy. I'll take really good care of it, because if I break it, I'll
have nothing to play with, won't I? You DO drive me crazy with lust, Boy,
but I won't damage you more than necessary. And I'll do everything I can to
keep you pleased, and contempt, and happy, because you feel soooo WONDERFUL
on my dick, and I'm keeping you there!"

He laid on top of me, this mountain of a man, this stranger, who shared
Doug's body, this Beast, crazy with hunger and lust for a innocent and
fragile kid's body. He just laid there, with me - impaled on his
monster. He just waited motionless, for the pain to subside, patiently,
like he was going to wait forever - he got me where he wanted - and in his
eyes, fixed on mine, drinking hungrily my fear, was a evil, menacing
promises for what he would do with me, once the pain vanishes.

He sensed somehow that the pain had lessened to dull throb and started
droving the Beast into me. My whole body tensed of the burning pain, I felt
so full, it felt like I have been torn apart. But my back arched, when his
monster-dick hit my pleasure spot. I yelled "What are you doing to me?!?"

He chuckled into my said softly "I'm tying you to me".

I was in full awareness this time. For the whole thing. He came after me
this time, driven over the edge from the convulsions of my body.



There were like... I don't know how to explain it... two halves of the same
person I had know as Doug, like the two sides of a coin, and they were one
light and one - dark and dangerous and scary. They were changing places,
operating the brain and the body of the man, who possessed me. The one I
had known by now and I knew him well. It was Doug from the city, but he
wasn't much on the surface, not sense we left the city - just glimpse here
and there. The other half, the predator that I called "The Giant" or "the
Beast", was in control most of the time.

While he bathed me again he made me bent over to be properly checked for
the amount the damage the Beast's monsterdick had done to me, and this time
his fingers were all business when he slid them in. I shivered. With all
sexual desire gone, it hurt like Hell. My eyes watered and I bit my lip so
hard that I draw blood... I whimpered anyway. No matter what they tell you,
taking dick in virgin butt-hole hurts like Hell, it never stop hurting
during the whole thing, and it never stop hurting during sex for the next
several dozens of times. Especially if you are entered by a 9-incher.

Doug washed my butt with cold water, and it stung. Then he very carefully
applied some kind of balm on my ring and inside my tube and this time felt
wonderfully cool and soothing on the touch. When I stood up, I saw his eyes
were blazing and the muscles of his jaw were twitching in anger. I quickly
dropped my eyes.

He was mad me. I have no idea why, but Beast was very, very angry. He was
trying to hide it but I could feel it lingering in his fingers, and I could
also feel the tension of trying to stuff the anger down. He wouldn't speak
to me. He worked on my body in silence for several minutes, and by the end
of it the tension between us build up heavily, making me angry as well. He
was mad at me, no matter would I do, he would be angry at me!

"You know what doesn't fit with your picture?" I asked him while he was
drying me with the fluff towel after bathing me again. My butt still hurt,
despite the cold-water wash and the healing balm. I wanted my piece of
retaliation!

"What?" he asked. He sat me on the counter and knelt in front of me to dry
between my toes. He was drying between my toes. With pedantic
thoroughness. Angry, like he was forced into making it up for some previous
failure.

"This" I told him and he looked up at me. The smart part of me was
yammering it was extremely stupid to angry the Beast even more, but the
rest of me didn't want to hear about it. I raised my chin in
defiance. "This doesn't fit. You - drying my feet. You - feeding me
chocolate. You - reading to me for hours and hours. This doesn't fit with
the pretty picture you painted me in bed."

He stood abruptly, eyes - blazing with rage at my defiance, and for reading
him. The muscle on his jaw twitched.

I flinched and squirmed under his hot gaze.

"Are you trying to be a smart-ass?" he demanded. I ducked my head in fear
and said nothing. "Cos if you do, I can drag you back into bed and fuck you
until you scream so laud that they'll hear you in Texas!"

Right. Like he was capable of doing that! I almost let the thought past my
lips, but I get a grip on myself in time and bit my lip hard again. The
crusted cut split open again. And then I realized two things. First was
that if I told him this, the Beast would do it, just to prove me wrong. The
second was, the Beast would hate himself afterward. Just like he was hating
himself now and was livid not at me, but at himself, for not being able to
control himself better and resisting me and just had fucked me again, when
I was still blood-sore. The giant couldn't hurt me, couldn't force himself
deliberately to hurt me, to cause me more pain than the unavoidable! Well,
yeah, OK, he wouldn't have any problems if I force him into it by opposing
him, I could see that.

Yep, I was right. And I wasn't telling him that.

Unaware of my thought, the Beast - yes, it was the Beast that did it -
throw the towel angrily on the floor, picked me up in his arms. The arms
were so gentle and carrying, but the strength of crushing my body if the
Beast felt like it was lingering just under the surface. He carried me away
to the bed to read to me some more. "The Beast chose to do THIS with me" I
was wondering in astonishment.



It was late afternoon. I have been drifting in and out of sleep under the
soft drum of Doug's voice the whole afternoon, catnapping, curled beside
his strong body.

"'... I fidgeted and fredet, but he wouldn't even so much as to mention the
kiss.'" I could hear the echo of Doug's voice in ribcage, along with the
strong beat of his hearth, and I loved it. "'He avoided the subject
deliberately, letting me stew. Samuel is very patient hunter'."

And the other shoe dropped. It didn't felt like a shoe. It felt like a tone
of bricks.

"Oh, My God!!!" I gasped, and my sudden disbelieving shock stopped Doug's
reading in mid-page.

"What is it, Sweetie?" there was concerned in his voice.

I throw back the covers and jumped off the bed, whirling at him, eyes wide,
gaping at him incredulously. He hadn't tried to stop me which was as well,
cos I didn't know what I would do to him if he had. Probably would have
bitten his freaken hand!

I saw the concern written in his face too and it really tipped me off.

"'Samuel was very patient hunter!', my ass, you manipulative bastard!" I
yelled at his astonished expression. I was mad, oh, I was so enraged that I
was trembling. I really didn't care that I was about to enrage him as well
up to trashing me so hard I wouldn't be able to sit on my butt for
weeks. 'Oh, wait, I couldn't sit on my butt anyways, thanks to him', and
this thought fired me even more. I wanted to scratch his eyes out.

"You bated me! You stalked me for months! Since the first day you met me,
you have been seducing me, you BASTARD!!!" I yelled at him at the top of my
lounges. "You knew about me all the time, didn't you? From the first time
you saw me, I bet! All those innocent-looking reassuring touches! Innocent,
my ass!!! And you would walk around me topless all the time! And the laptop
that supposed to be on the table! You staged it all! And all that BULLSHIT
you fed me, about the Evil men, and how it was a matter of time for them to
knock on the door, if you aren't there to protect me! You were bating me
all along, weren't you?!? And bullied me into it, you, you, you..."

I screamed in speechless, helpless anger, I was spitting mad.

He laughed, eyes glowing with such smug happiness that enraged further than
I thought possible.

"Come here" he opened his arms and called me to him.

And, as mad as I was, I suddenly wanted to be in those arms, but I didn't
move - I'll be Damned if I move for this seductive son of a bitch - just
stared at him, panting.

He reached fast as a snake, I tried to move back, but he was faster. He
grabbed me, with a strong, swift motion pulled into him, hugged me tight
crashing my resistance and immobilizing me and just held me there. I
snarled at him and tried to wriggle free, but he just held me.

"Tell me you don't want it. Tell me you aren't happy with me." He dared me
smiling crookedly, scar curled, down at me.

I pouted. He was right, couldn't tell him, but I wasn't admitting to
anything! He wasn't suppose to be THAT smug about it, Darn him!

He laughed again and kissed me. Really kissed me. Not the hungry-for-sex
kiss, but a new one, really gentle, tender, loving kiss, that melted all my
anger away. It was far too late for any anger now.



I lay beside him that afternoon, huddled up to him, my head on his
shoulder, quiet and peaceful, surrounded by his warmth, by his care. From
time to time I would rub my cheek against his to feel the hardness of big
chest, to feel the crushing, killing strength, lingering under the
surface. I would nuzzle it and sigh, when his big hand would rise up from
petting my back to pat me on the head.

Once he stopped reading.

"You are happy, aren't you?" there was smile in his voice.

"Yeah" I sighed happily and the Beast kissed the top of my head.