3: Fera - Pack City (4 page)

He had a look in his eyes, worshipping her, hoping she wouldn’t turn him away. Very subservient. Watching for any sign of her displeasure, all the while licking up her leg. I thought it was cool.

I think he worked his way up from her insole. I opened my eyes about the time he got above her knee, on her inner thigh.

She made a little noise, a squeak of pleasure when he got about four inches from her crotch. My nose twitched. I guess that’s the point when he turned her to liquid. His tongue strayed upward while I watched, and moisture formed, slid out of her, wetting the curly little pelt of hair she had surrounding her womanhood.

I saw her reach down and put her hands on the sides of his head, lift him up so she could look him in the eye. That kind of surprised me. I thought she would just lie back and enjoy it, let him dive in. But she took a minute to get eye contact with him.

That’s a lesson for me. I think she read his intent, searched his eyes, waited to see the begging hope. I felt the first stirrings between my legs then, because I could see it, too. And I wanted, more than anything, to see that in some guy’s eyes.

His throat convulsed a little and he finally managed to say, “Please.”

That bitch smiled, then dragged his face to her crotch and said, “Better fucking do it right.”

He lapped her lower lips, sucked and slid his tongue in repeatedly. I sat up to watch. I think she reveled in the show, that I would think it was cool to watch her get this.

She urged him several times. “Deeper, harder.”

Once, she said, “Faster, you fuck.” And I saw her squirm then. She was holding his head to her, not letting him up for air.

I could smell that she was close. And that’s when she pushed him away. Told him, “Hold up.”

I don’t know which one of us was breathing harder. Definitely had a tingling going on through the center of my being, spiraling down from my navel to my cunt. And I was wet. Holy hell, was I wet.

She had her head back, eyes closed, and her hands on her own nipples, tweaking them more. And suddenly both their heads came up and turned toward me. Guess they smelled my interest.

The bitch clawed him up, sort of pulled him atop her and told him, “Fuck.”

He plunged into her without a second thought, ramming her, really, but he was watching me. It lasted all of about two seconds before he grunted out his business. I had to get up and move then.

But the thing about Pack City, when it’s in the air, it’s in the air. You can’t turn a corner without seeing something like that.

Chapter Two

Everybody’s seen two dogs fucking. They sniff. They lick. She backs up and he climbs on. There’s a little bouncing action and then they’re stuck together.

That’s because a canine’s cock head swells after he comes. I think it happens to help guarantee that the sperm go up inside, instead of leak out. Bitch almost always gets pregnant.

When a werewolf is in wolf form, it seems that it always happens. He swells. They’re stuck. At least for a few minutes. When a wereman is in human form, it rarely happens. Almost never happens.

But hell if it ain’t funny when you turn a corner and see it. It’s about the most perverse form of penile dysfunction you can get, I think.

So I leave the main clearing at P.C., slip through a few trees, skirt the council cave, thinking I’ll go and find a drink. Maybe cool off in the creek or something.

But there, at the edge of the water, is the funniest thing I ever saw.

I guess I should back up and explain something. Shifting forms is an art. Some of us just do it, with no conscious thought. We don’t know how it happens. Emotions, usually anger, tend to set the shift into gear.

Some can control their shifting. That usually comes with age. Except, like I said, most of us don’t live that long. Every now and then, ya get lucky, and just know how to do it. But our emotions totally rule us. And our base nature, I don’t care if we’re born human or in wolf form, is to be a dog. But that’s my take.

Anyhow, I loped toward the sound of water splashing, people yelling. At first, I thought they were just having fun out there, ya know?

Several other people and wolves were lazing around, laughing. I sat back on my haunches to watch the show, figure out what was happening.

“Fera,” my brother says to me. “You see that?”

“Yeah.” But I wasn’t sure what it was. A man and a woman thrashing around in the water.

“That’s what you get when you fuck the imbeciles.”

My brother is a supremacist. Believes in separation of the classes. An order to all things. Thinks that those born wolves, who can shift, are the highest race on the planet. I like his logic.

Trying to be clever, I asked, “What? Water sport?”

“Yeah.”

My head swung back toward the water. I moved my tongue around inside my cheek, trying to figure out what was so bad about what they were doing.

“First, he tried to urinate on her.”

I arched my neck, stretched out, kept watching ahead of me. Lots of people like that sort of thing. I hadn’t quite decided yet, but I narrowed my gaze, tried to picture the beginning to the now-alligator-rolling couple. They were definitely thrashing around. She was trying to get free of him and he was hanging on, I think. It was hard to tell.

“Aimed at her mouth.”

I wrinkled my nose. Finally, I turned my head and asked, “Standing up, human?”

He laughed. “Yeah.”

The picture in my head really was kind’ve funny. I asked, “So, she didn’t really like that or what?”

“She put up with it.”

There are some rules at P.C. No sex without consent.

“Well, did she open her mouth or not?” I shook my head when he didn’t answer right away. Like that was something I wanted to be held in suspense over. I grumbled, “Never mind.” Then I mentioned, “I’ve seen them together before.”

“Everybody has.”

The girl in the water came up spluttering, found her footing. And her partner yelled, “Thank Gaia! Will you just stand still for a few minutes now?”

“I think they just like the attention. They are having a good time.” I really did think that. I saw no reason not to say it.

“Maybe. But he’s a loser, Fera. Stay away from him.”

“Why does he want her to stand still?”

“Dolt half-shifted, told her to shift in the middle.”

That made me gasp...and narrow my gaze a little more. Sure enough, I could see some tell-tale signs of half-in, half-out on both of them. My eyes popped. I stuck my lips out.

“Yeah. Freaks.”

That never cuts it in Pack City. Does something to the genetics, like the seed itself is in half warp. It’s almost like interbreeding within the breeding.

But
, the two of them were out there in the water and she leans forward, screaming, “Get it out!”

“I can’t, baby.” The guy’s coaxing her. “Just relax.”

“I can’t relax, you moron! There’s a crinos head inside of me, swelling up.”

“You’d think that would feel good, to a point. I mean, the slow pressure building up inside,” my brother explained to me, “But it’s painful. Too tight. Too dry. And they’re in water, to boot. Natural lubrication is ruined.”

Again, I looked over at him. “How do you know so much, you try it?”

He laughed hoarsely, like the dog he was, but he shook his head. “Nah. Seen it before.”

“Oh.”

“The biggest problem with the whole thing is, well, just watch. She’s fixing to get mad.”

And she was. A minute later, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, and sprouted out. Her nose started to stretch. I saw her claws extend. And probably the funniest thing was the expression on his face. It was a definite ‘Holy Shit’. He started backing up, dragging her with him by the connection they had at crotch level.

Oh, was he backpedaling fast. And that just pissed her off more because she couldn’t get her balance.

Now, you’d think that her going crinos would help the situation. She’d grow in size, maybe be able to accommodate him better. And that may be, but more importantly, a bitch in crinos is fury unleashed. Muscled monster. She was just as likely to do a kegel and lop off his scrawny little head inside her as she was to turn around and swipe off his stupid look--at the neck.

Either way it looked like he was screwed, in the full sense of the word.

I had to ask, “Was it good, before it turned? He came, didn’t he?”

My brother laughed. “Yeah, but she didn’t.”

That made me wince. No wonder she was really pissed. That’s one of the first rules of sex. See to your partner’s personal pleasure before your own. Even I knew that.

So, they were backing up, and both were getting mad then. And they kind’ve trampled over another couple that had been oblivious, or ignoring them. And then all hell broke out. Imagine these connected...people...spinning, trying to defend themselves from fang one and fang two. I decided that slipping away was a good plan.

Chapter Three

I hope I’m not boring you, but I had to explain how things are done in Pack City, so you could understand what happened to me next.

It seemed like I should get out; maybe run a bit, clear my head. Too many visual aids for sex, and no partner to do it with. And I’m telling you, my hormone levels were going whacko.

As I passed some males discussing world affairs, their heads came up. And I mean, all their heads.

I had a sudden
frisson
of fear climb over me when one called out, “Hold it right there.” I suppose it’s the smell of arousal in the air.

Tensing, I tried to tell myself, “Relax. This pack of dogs isn’t scary. They’ve never bothered you before.”

But I’d never been at first shift prime before. Didn’t even realize that it had started.

Very slowly, I turned my head, tipped it sideways and asked, “What do you want?”

The one talking was a wolf of medium build. Did I mention that they were all in lupus, looking like wolves? Mostly, they were a shaggy lot. A little mangy. The single contingent of the pack. Good backups, not outcasts, but definitely not
of the ilk my brother and Leer were. They wouldn’t have said a word to me, if my brother had been anywhere around. These were among the imbeciles in my brother’s estimation.

They laughed. All the hoarse little humor of true dogs. It irritated me.

Probably the shift coming on. Moodiness is one of the first signs.

Mr. Vocal says, “Where you going?”

I squinted, wondering, what does he care? But I didn’t say anything, just tried to judge their mood.

That wasn’t really hard. Their cocks were hanging, pink and stiff, moist and ready.

Now, I don’t want to sound like a snob, especially since I was born a wolf--but I’m a woman. And at that moment, my entrapment in wolf form was getting old. I didn’t like cheap thrill dogs. Correction, I didn’t want any cheap thrill from any of those dogs.

But instantly, visions of them chasing me down, raping me, came to mind. They’d done it before--to others. Oh, nobody could prove it--but girls had cried about it. Sometimes for weeks. The thing is, with something like that, they say you can’t tell them apart; the faces all blend together. You try to put the nightmare out of mind.

I knew that one of the mistakes most of the girls had made was running. We’re predators,
hello
. Want to stimulate that hunting instinct, offer up a little chase for a tail-sniffing type and you’re gonna run your legs off, until they outwit you and cut you off.

So, I really struggled with the fear of being raped. Tried not to show it in my eyes, but I was damn scared. Felt like a real girl.

Somewhere in my brain, though, my wit managed to surface. Instead of running, I sat down and noted, “I see you’re all up for a little action.”

“Politics always gets us going.”

“Oh, is that it?” I didn’t believe Mr. Vocal. Guess he was the only one with a tongue.

“Care to give us a run?”

My nose wrinkled. I asked, “Care to give me a show?”

They laughed.

I didn’t move. When they stopped laughing, I asked, “Well?”

Mr. Vocal frowned for a minute, then asked, “What kind of show did you have in mind, little one?”

Now, I’m not that damn little, and it’s a total insult to be, in any way, told you’re a runt--especially when you’re anything but. It definitely pissed me off.

Looking directly at his ready staff, I said, “Listen, ya little peckerhead, I’d like to see a little fucking respect.”

That got their attention. They blinked over that.

Honestly, what empowered me was probably the scent of my brother and Leer coming toward us. They were mind-talking. Leer asked,
I thought you told her not to leave P.C.

I did, dammit. I’m gonna wring her little neck.

You smell that?

They were talking about me. With my body ready to change, Big Brother had put down his foot. Told me not to get outside the perimeter. And technically, I was still inside the limits.

Just barely. And just because I’d been stopped.

I need to explain something. When you’re ready to go into the first shift frenzy, you have a definite urge to smell some fresh air, if you know what I mean. Maybe take a little run, check out some new sights. Fuck your brains out with somebody you never met before.

So you can imagine my brother’s irritation at the thought that I might go out and get pregnant with some freak’s bastard. Or worse, a human of no breeding. Not kin, like Kayty.

Did I mention that my brother is Leer’s right hand man now? Or that his name is Hood? Got a really nice set of markings when he’s in lupus. Almost perfect.

Well, about as perfect as you can get, really. And he’s bigger than Leer.

Some say he should take over the pack. I’m sure he’s thinking about it. But, for now, he and Leer are cool.

Mr. Vocal prompts, “Thinking up something good?”

“Yeah.” I kinda smile. “Something real good.”
Thinking on how to get you rapists crying.

More of that damn hoarse laughing rose up. Jackals, they sounded like.

I almost wanted to run, now that I was pretty sure Leer and Hood were on their way. Probably end up in all the dogs being put down.

Don’t think I didn’t look to the woods outside of Pack City.

Thought I saw something move, too. Narrowed my gaze.

“I’m game. How about you?” The others agreed. For some, there’s not much they won’t do. It was easy to peg those bozos.

“Shift.” It was an order.

“Ah, not so easy,” Mr. Vocal apologized. “Some of us, ah, we need to get mad to do it.”

“Fine.” I turned up my nose. “Just fuck yourselves, then.”

Apparently that irritated Mr. Vocal, because he freaking changed in a heartbeat. And maybe his sudden change made the others nervous. The next thing you know, the woods were filled with the sounds of all of them popping and grinding. Some of them had on some painful expressions, took way too long to change. I jumped at a few of the bone-crunching snaps. They have to shift through crinos to get to human, so the view of this gruesome scene was pretty ugly. And, like I said, these were not prime specimens of the species to begin with. And most of them, as humans, were ugly as hell.

Definitely a bunch of scrawny cocks. Though, I think they felt bigger down there as humans than they did in the previous form.

I laughed a little. I knew I could outrun them all if they were on two legs and I got a head start. Even if they took a minute to change. It would be enough. Too easy. Really.

What I didn’t realize was that the losers had been waiting for me. Pre-shift behavior, I guess, is pretty predictable.

And honestly, I probably should have mentioned...I’m like a princess in the pack, not that we have royalty per se. But I am one of the few clean blood descendents left. Makes me a good breeder.

Since I felt pretty safe, I dropped to my belly and said, “I was serious about fucking yourselves.”

Okay. I’ll tell you now, even though they were lying in wait for me, they were carnal beasts first and foremost. Just having me say the words out loud made their cocks reach, throb and ache.

I took my turn, looked them in the eye one by one and said, “Go ahead. Stroke yourself. I want to see.”

What I really wanted to see, suddenly, was them all coming at the same time. Or maybe servicing each other. I couldn’t make up my mind. Pictures floated quickly, in and out.

But, again, something in the woods, the slightest movement, caught my attention, stole some of my enjoyment. So, with one eye on the troupe and the other on the woods, I commanded them, “Squeeze your balls. Harder.” Yeah, I had to grin. “Harder.” Talk about pinching the blood flow.

I think they liked it.

“Now stroke.”

It was pretty funny. I mean, really. Just picture it.

Mr. Vocal asked, “And what do we get for this?”

“Self-satisfaction?” I smiled bigger. “Or you want something else?”

“What I’d really like is a little piece of your ass,” Mr. Vocal, I think, wanted to talk dirty to me. You know, interactive-like, instead of me just telling him what to do.

Leer and Hood were a lot closer now. Hood said,
Remind me again why you didn’t want me to lock her up.

I made a face at that. It was common practice to lock a chick in a safe little place until her first change is over. Maybe keep her there for a bit until she gets a grip.

Leer said,
Kayty insisted. She really likes Fera. And she’s got her own ideas on how women should be treated.

She has no idea what Fera’s capable of.

Oh, I think she’s got a good idea. She went through it herself, you know. Not that long ago.

She’s not wolf born. She has no idea.
Hood’s voice had a guttural edge to it.

Again, it was all mind talk. They were slinking, I bet, with every plan to sneak up on me and catch me doing something wrong. Seems like it doesn’t matter what I do, it’s wrong--leastwise that’s what Hood tends to think. Or so he tells me. He’s such a prude. Uncommonly private. Ya can’t trust a guy like that, can ya?