Blood of Submission
Hey dudes, JJ here.
Fiiinally getting around to publishing this behemoth (seriously, it's over 11k words long - 27 pages!!) Huge thanks to a guy who wants to remain anonymous for the ideas! We're hoping to continue the story soon, but I'd like to be able to get at least a couple of other requests out of the way before that.
As always, be sure to read the tags before diving in. This story gets weird.
(Apologies for the screwy formatting; Sofurry can't really accommodate stories of this size)
Three figures approached the balcony to the roaring acclaim of the townsfolk below. Sweetly flowers and coins of precious metal arced over the stone platform above.
The central figure, a wizened man held up by a walking stick of the finest ivory of dragon horn, presented his hand to calm the frenzy of his people. A crown of bright silver burdened him where once he bore it proudly upon his head; such was the curse of age in men. This was Lord Avenfal, Master of the Towns of Avenfirth.
He was flanked on either side by figures much taller than he: nearly twice his size, they stood. Already a shriveled elder and quickly descending to his grave, he was dwarfed by them.
These beings appeared to common men as wolves who stood on their hind legs. From their manes dangled bone and beads of outlandish color. Scars crossed their ashen snouts.
Most curiously, their eyes glinted with a steely blue that betrayed a certain human intelligence. But not merely human, no - their eyes carried within their disks the horrors of the centuries, like basins overflowing with memories of blood and war.
The truth of it, dear reader, is that they were far older than the elder that stood between them.
"People of Avenfirth," the Lord of this land began, "Your safety has, once again, been secured."
The crowd erupted anew with applause.
"And we mere men have these, our wolven brothers, to thank for that." He gestured to the werewolves at his side and knelt in gratitude. "We of the Towns of Avenfirth are forever in their debt. And, my dear friends," he added, catching the eyes of both of his allies, "You have the ear of their Lord."
A span of clapping and whistling ensued, and the werewolves allowed it. As the cheering waned, one stepped forward, arms folded deep within a gray cloak.
"Brothers," he rasped. "We are pleased to see this land - once our own - sleep soundly again. But we shall not deceive you: the battle against the Serpent of the Unshaes was a victory sorely won, at great cost to ourselves. We lost many of our kind in the endeavor, and I fear our numbers dwindle dangerously."
The masses fell quiet, reverent. The silence hung for a moment.
"We seek, as is our right, a tribute of able men to replace our fallen. We must again turn man to wolf to replenish our people."
Young men, blacksmiths, soldiers, and apprentices all, spilled over into the front of the crowds, hands stretching the length of the vast stone wall that upheld the balcony. They begged to be taken for the honor of their land.
"Remember, children of men, the cost," the other werewolf warned. An eyepatch ran across his scars. "Your lives are henceforth forfeit to the clans of the Wolves. You shall receive long life, but only if you are of the stuff to survive the perilous centuries. The world outside these towns is cruel and dark, and ever shall you stand against it."
"Our lives for Avenfirth!" They cried out as one, some hoisting blades and others hammers in a show of fealty.
"Remember, O people:" The first werewolf raised his voice over the din of the crowds below. "This is a willing sacrifice. You will uphold the laws of the Wolves and stand vigilant against the darkness. Never again shall you know the distraction of the flesh of a woman."
Lord Avenfal rose from his kneel and approached the edge of the balcony.
"Sons of Avenfirth, you who are strong and brave and true: these of you only may step forward."
An agitated whisper rippled through the gathered crowd of young men. They dispersed, one by one, as the realization of what was at stake sank in. Glory was one thing, but celibacy... quite another.
There remained only ten boys in total, all between nineteen to twenty-one winters old. From the first to the last were they all men of the guards and smiths, capable in combat and quite strong, as humans go.
Except, of course, for one.
At the far end stood a boy that appeared much less than sixteen years of age, although his twentieth birthday was not but a fortnight past. He was lanky, thin, and his hair spilled over the sides of his head in unkempt waves of gold. An apron, powdered with flour and stained with all manner of ingredients, showed over his front.
From a certain view, one could be mistaken that this was a young girl stood among men.
"You there," Lord Avenfal called. He looked down upon the lad, both hands gripping his ivory staff. "What is your name?"
"I am Lodri, sir." He squeaked. His eyes fell to the cobblestone below as he became painfully aware of his station. He could feel the gaze of his people on him. "I am the baker's son, and I am brave and true!"
"But you are not strong..." The Lord observed. He dismissed the baker-boy with a tap of his staff. "Surely there are others who would offer themselves for the safety of our lands?"
The crowds whispered feverishly, but none stepped forward.
The eyepatched wolf spoke: "It is no matter. We shall take them - all of them - as this ritual may only be performed by willing tributes. If his spirit is strong, then he shall also become strong."
The Master of Avenfirth lowered his head, shamed in his old age. He persisted, rolling the staff in his pale hands, "Forgive me, my wolf-brothers, but I fear he shall be a waste of blood, best kept in the sculleries of the--"
"All. Of. Them." He repeated. With a flick of his cloak, he spun on his heel and retreated into the castle. "We leave tonight. Fang Oden - come."
With that, the werewolves retired and Lord Avenfal was left to address the crowd.
Grudgingly, he turned to his people and decreed, "My sons, I of the bloodline of Avenfal, Master of Avenfirth, commit you to the care of the Wolves. With the blessings of our gods do I send you forth into the dens of valor. May your service to your kin be long and glorious."
The crowd thundered in joyous response, reaching out hands to touch their newest protectors.
Lodri smiled as the peasantfolk descended upon him.Finally, he thought. Finally, I matter!
He caught eyes with his father, the baker of Avenfirth. Tears of joy filled the creases of his eyes, and he clapped with the rest of them.
His age-worn face beamed with fatherly pride. To think: The son of Avenfirth's baker, a man of lowly station, rising to the defense of his people in the ultimate sacrifice.
But Lodri knew he would be sorely missed. He felt his father's sadness.
He shouldered his way past the fawning masses and took his father's creaking frame into his arms.
"Papa," he said. He pressed a tear-slick cheek into his father's apron. "I'll always remember you. I'll make you proud!"
His father smiled and pressed a powdered hand into the long sweeps of his son's golden hair. "My boy," he said. "I am already so proud."
The forests of Avenfirth darkened swiftly as the dusky twilight gave way to night. An autumn chill nipped at the travelers through their cloaks, and they had naught but a single lantern to guide their way.
The two wolves, each the twin Fangs of the Alpha, lead the group ever deeper into groves unseen by mortal men. Behind them plodded along the ten men of Avenfirth, bickering and laughing amongst themselves.
"They'll let just anyone join in, won't they?" One of the sons of the smiths remarked. The others chuckled.
He was much larger than the baker's son.
In fact, they all were.
"I fought only men could become Weres," Another of the lads added, pushing Lodri on the back.
He stumbled and fell into a ditch of mud, soiling his apron.
"Not some flow'ry maiden wi' chin-hairs."
"Piss off, smithy," he spat, his knees soaked in filth. "I'll make your mother--"
"Enough." Commanded the eyepatched werewolf. He did not turn around.
His companion, Fang Oden, stood gnarled and tree-like in the light of the lantern as he turned to the boys that followed them. His lupine face danced with shadows in the lamp-fire as he loosed a terrible snarl. "We will not hesitate to tear your arms from the trunks of your bodies if you continue this quarreling. You are all Omegas, now - equal in the eyes of the Alpha." His eyes glinted with a chilling, predatory blue.
"'Cept this one, he's a right runt, is'n' he?" One of the boys said, mussing Lodri's blond hair in a headlock. "Lit'le--"
"HE SAID, ENOUGH!" The werewolf barked. A claw slashed in front of him with dizzying speed, tearing the tunic of the offending man. Lodri fell from his hold.
A trickle of blood could be heard amongst the gasps of terror. The man gripped the hole in his shirt where blood poured in rivulets as he fell to his knees. He looked up at his new master, gaping in horror.
"Me... sir?" he wheezed, taken aback.
The wound was cut so clean the pain had not yet set in.
The eyepatched wolf turned coolly to address the stunned litter of human children. "The law of the Wolves is not the law of Avenfirth. You will respect each other - but most importantly, you will respect those stronger than you."
The wounded man cried out as the agony of it registered. Blood poured from a hand clenched tightly over the wound.
"...We, Oden and I, are the Fangs of the Alpha; there are none greater, more powerful, than we, save the Alpha of the Weres. To disobey us is to surely die..." With that, he turned, away from the lantern of his companion, to step fearlessly into the dark brambles of the forest.
His voice echoed among the trees: "Such is the way of the Wolves."
Fang Oden, the lantern-bearer, regarded the sorry kid for a moment. With a shake of his head, he extended a single claw and a sickening rip of air sent the lad back onto his rear with a scream.
Reeling from the sudden throw, he retched and sniveled in pain. As he looked down, he found a silvery scar where his blood once spilled, and abs crusted over with old blood. The pain persisted, but - surprise on surprise - he would live.
"You are still useful to us, Omega." The Were's voice came like the roll of thunder in the distance. "But do not for a moment think yourself irreplaceable. If it be my claw a second time, I will not aid you again." The hooded Were, lantern hanging from his paw like a somber censer, turned to the others and snarled. "All of you: collect yourselves, we have yet a while before Vargheim."
Lodri rose from the muck, shaken and pale as he beheld his colleague. The other boys looked on as the proud son of a strong man cried like a child doubled over in pain, his tunic torn wide open to expose his strong muscles.
It clawed at Lodri, the sight of it. He may have wronged him, but he did not deserve to be reduced to this.
Was this really what I wanted?
As he gaped, the others shouldered past him. Some shot him withering glares as they went.
"Let's go, girlie," one spat.
"Keep my eyes on you, lad," warned another.
Lodri, the dirty baker boy, lowered his shoulders in disbelief. He did nothing wrong!
But that was just it.
Blood sang in his ears as a new fury rose in him.
Yes. I do want this, he asserted. With newfound strength, he climbed the roots and bramble of a dark path set before him.
I'll be better than you all. He vowed. I will be a great protector.
The troupe arrived after some time at the foot of a small mount. It was a grand thing, despite its meager stature, and revealed many caverns by the light of the moon.
Werewolves outfitted with leather and bones withdrew from the humans; it had been many decades since men had taken up the Rite of Transformation. They were something of a rarity in these woods.
Fang Oden turned to them. "We are at the gates of Vargheim, Omegas. You will show due respect or the Rite will be denied you."
The other Fang lowered his hood and breathed in deeply the scents of his people. His breath carried on a cool breeze.
"We are home." He said. Turning slowly to eye each of his wards, he explained, "I am Fang Andred the One-Eyed, Speaker of the Alpha. You now step foot into the domain of the Wolves, sons of man. If any of you fear for your lives more than the lives of your kin, I urge you to leave now. Some of you will not survive the first year of your transformation."
Whispers both hot and rapid rippled through the small group of men. They were fearful, curious, but most of all, prideful; at this stage, they would not be able to leave, even if they wanted to.
"Will none of you regret this journey?" Fang Oden spoke up. He could feel their hearts racing.
Silence ensued. Their pride of country bested their fears.
"Very well." Andred said flatly. "Lord Moon's favor upon you all. You shall each be called one by one to accept the ritual. And so do we begin..."
A Were stepped out of the darkness of the cave, the long dreads of fur on his head held high by carved branches and bits of bone. Blue paints swirled over his maw and bare chest and from his shoulders hung the leathers of his enemies.
"My brothers," he began, "I welcome you to this sacred place."
Many hours passed. On the very fringe of the horizon crept a dull green, herald of the dawn.
There remained only three of the original ten boys. Lodri was among them.
"Reckon you'll choke, boy." One of them said, tossing a pebble at Lodri. "This's man territory, now."
"Shut your face, Owir -" Lodri shot back hotly. "Your boyfriends aren't here to protect you."
Owir wiped the corner of his mouth with a thumb and heaved a breathy laugh. He rose to the challenge, standing to full height from his slouch against a boulder. His head angled itself at the smaller kid beneath him. A cruel smile curled across his face.
For a moment, Lodri regretted his words.
"Leave him alone, Owir." Came the voice of the other. His arms were folded.
"Canna just let a lad talk to Owir like tha', Samien."
"Maybe he wouldn't've if you louts'd've left 'im alone, yeah?" Samien said matter-of-factly. "Come off it, man. You'll be called soon enough."
"Owir of Avenfirth, step forward." Beckoned the headdressed Were. His torch cast light into the deep caverns of the rock face.
"See?" Samien grinned. "Off you go!"
Owir turned to Lodri and back at the caves again. "You happy li'l shit. We'll finish this, we will." With that, he pounded off in the direction of the caves where his fate awaited.
Lodri sat on the ground and sunk into his knees. A sigh escaped him almost involuntarily. "...Thanks." He whispered.
"No worries, lad - they were a right bunch of shits, they were. Just sorry they bothered you, little brother."
His face burned bright red. "I'm not so little, you know."
Samien laughed. "Okay, okay - brother. Does that make you happy?"
Lodri grinned and nodded. He rested his head on his knuckles and a great span of time passed before they spoke again.
Tracing shapes in the mud, he worked up the courage to ask, "Are you afraid?"
Samien mulled the question over for a moment. "A little bit, I suppose. Isn't any soldier?"
Lodri nodded to himself. "But a soldier knows how he'll die. These things... how can we be so sure...?
The older boy waved him away dismissively. "I wouldn't worry your head, litt- erm - brother. The Weres have always protected us. We're a part of that now - don't you fret!"
Lodri hung his head and sighed. "I suppose."
An awkward silence built between the two for a time. Samien took to twisting the roots of the earth in his hands before looking up at the blond lad. He found him quite handsome, for a baker's son - if a little on the small side.
"So... you work in a bakery, yeah?" He asked, discarding a length of frayed weeds.
"That's right." Lodri answered guardedly. "I make bread and pies. I feed our soldiers."
Samien sensed his defensiveness. "Well, that's well useful! And what is your favorite dish to make, then?"
The lad leaned into his elbow and had a long think. With a little hand, he smoothed out the wrinkles on his muddied, flour-stained apron and sucked his teeth thoughtfully.
"I rather like making pastries. They're delicate things, see; they require a good hand and a careful eye."
Samien chuckled. "Do you? I see you've got both."
The boys smiled at each other as a light crept upon them.
"Samien of Avenfirth, step forward." Came the voice of the tattooed Were.
The lad cast a nervous look at Lodri before standing and dusting himself.
"Wish me luck, little brother." He smiled. He held out a hand.
Lodri eyed his worn palm for a moment before taking it and giving it a good shake. They met eyes again.
"I hope to see you when this is all over, Lodri."
"I do too, Sam. Good luck."
He woke when his name was called. A red print marked his face where he rested on his knuckles.
"Lodri of Avenfirth, step forward." Called the painted Werewolf. The hollow tinkle of bones accompanied him.
The boy sprung to his feet. A mixture of nervousness, pride and wonder gripped him as he approached the cavern, hugging tightly to the rock face. Eyes heavy with the ordeal of travel swiveled about the walls of the cavern as twigs crunched underfoot. Upon closer inspection, paintings of men and wolves awash with blood leapt at him in ancient detail.
Images of a central figure, carved in white chalk, dominated the scene. He was flanked by scores of what appeared to be women, and he wore a crescent on his head. A single supplicant, painted in blue, held a knife and from him flowed ribbons of red.
"We must not tarry, boy." The wolf chided. He flicked a claw beckoningly. "Lord Moon leaves us swiftly."
So cautioned, Lodri hurried into the cavern with his lupine mentor. As they went, he caught glimpses of paw prints of every size and color stretching to the high ceiling of the tunnel in the dim glow of torchlight.
After a series of winding passages, they came to a clearing where the moon showed full overhead.
At the top of a low hill of blue grass sat an old stone statue with arms arced over a massive, silver bowl. Its face was bestial, but with human expression, as it gazed into the depths of the basin.
A circle of Weres holding torches, some beating dreams, surrounded the scene.
"Lo, the sacrifice!" Proclaimed the headdressed Were, taking Lodri's hand in paw. He hoisted it high to the sight of the other Weres and they yipped and howled. "Lo, the offering."
The boy's eyes widened in fear. "Sir Wolf, you don't mean--"
"Do not be afraid, young one," he said. He offered Lodri a knife, carved with a motif of fierce wolves in leap. "Step forward: Be made anew."
Lodri trembled. Fighting great terror, he made his way to the bowl. His innards struggled against his urge to flee - he knew he would not make it far if he were to run.
As he stopped at its step, the knife at his side, he looked around him: The werewolves were still - save for the drummers - but began to chant in a strange tongue.
The headdressed wolf recited an oath:
"Before all present, each twelve of us brothers of Lord Moon, answer: What is your name, O man?"
He swallowed. The knife shook in his hands. "I-I am Lodri, sir."
"And why have you come here?"
Lodri's breathing shallowed. Why did he come here?
"I... I want to become strong."
The headdressed Were was unmoved. "And why do you wish to become strong, Lodri of Avenfirth?"
"...to protect others, sir."
He circled Lodri, appraising him, paws held tightly behind.
"Do you come for glory?"
"I suppose I-"
"Do you come for justice?"
"Yes, I-"
He stopped, just behind the boy. A paw pressed into each of his thin shoulders from above. "My brother," he growled into his small, human ear, "do you come to obey?"
Lodri looked down into the basin. A pool, black by the moon's lambency, rippled serenely. The werewolf peered at him in the reflection, eyes blue as ice and just as chilling.
"I do."
With no further ceremony, the circle of Weres extinguished their flames and ceased chanting. Naught but the ritual drums and a rush of one's own adrenaline could be heard.
"Omega, thou art man no longer!" He proclaimed. "Hold high the blade, and intone my words:"
Timidly, Lodri did as commanded. He hoisted the knife over the bowl, blade pointed down. It glinted coolly in the moonlight.
"'I, Lodri, born of man,'" the Were began.
"'I, Lodri, born of man,'" Lodri repeated. His heart hammered in his chest.
The elder wolf's paws slipped over his small hands and slowly drew them together. To his horror, the Were pressed the blade into the palm of his other hand.
"'Do swear by my blood,'"
Lodri winced as the knife unzipped his flesh with ease. Biting back tears, he stammered in response, "'D-do swear, by... nngah, my blood--"
"'Ever to uphold the laws of Vargheim,'"
"'Ever to uphold the laws of Vargheim,'" the boy mewled, beads of blood dribbling into the bowl.
But even as it pained him, he gripped the bright blade fast. He would be something.
A protector. A warrior. A savior.
The surface of the strange liquid roiled as it accepted his offering. A cloudiness overcame his senses as his mentor's final words echoed in his mind.
"'And to serve always its Alpha.'"
The drums ceased beating.
Lodri wasn't sure if he had completed the recitation. Indeed, he wasn't certain of where he even was.
He lifted his head, vision blurry and disoriented.
"Who are you?"
He gasped in fear and whipped around. There was only darkness.
Nothingness.
No moon, no grass, no Werewolves.
He turned around again, and met the face of the idol from across an expanding bowl. It moved, even fashioned of stone, and surveyed him with great incredulity.
Its voice groaned with the stones of the earth: "Who are you?"
"I am Lodri, sir..." He answered nervously. "Of--"
"Why do you come to this place?"
Pride welled suddenly in his heart; the surety was his. "To protect others, Sir Wolf--"
"Why do you come to this place?" The statue's voice menaced. Great echoes crashed against the surface of the bowl.
Lodri cowered under the rim of the basin. "For - for glory, sir--"
A terrible weight pressed upon him, as if his very life force were being squeezed from him.
"Why do you come to this place?"
Lodri broke into stifled cries. The statue grew to tower over him. Stone crackled and thundered as it became a living mountain rising into the blackness above. Lodri was a mere human, nothing compared to the might of the Weres. And this idol was... something more than the Weres.
"Because, I - I..." He heaved, tears streaming down his face. "I want to belong!"
"To whom?" It boomed. "To whom do you wish to belong?"
"I..." Choked by tears, he looked up at the statue. Visions of his father, the baker of Avenfirth, flashed through his mind: A single man, not unlike the common throngs that gathered in the town square, but still set apart from them all. He held out his hands to it, this vision, ecstatic and desperate.
"Daddy--!" He cried out.
The Werewolf idol fell silent. No longer did its stone skin creak and move. It lowered its head to look into the basin. A living curiosity most unlike stone overtook it; it seemed to gaze at his very memories.
"Lodri," called the headdressed wolf. He held a paw to the boy's back.
He woke with a start, collapsed over the basin of the idol. Dawn was fast approaching but the moon had not yet grown shy.
"Drink deep from the cup of the Wolf." He commanded. "From this day forth, you are not man, but beast."
Lodri peered into the depths of the basin. Memories of his father, benches powdered over with flour, hot ovens, copper coins in hand: all these caught upon its surface.
The knife fell from his hand with a clatter.
Forgetful of his wounds, he dipped both hands into the basin and cupped a handful of that precious memory. It shimmered like a gem molded to his hands. Inside, he saw his past - but it called to him a future.
He sipped the strange mixture.
"Lodri of Avenfirth," the headdressed wolf said, "I now declare you one of the Wolves."
Lodri once more looked around him, meeting the eyes of what would become his peers - pinpricks of icy, blue light in the darkness - before falling suddenly over the silver basin. Their collective gaze left trails of blue burning in his mind as he loosed a terrible cry.
He tore his hair and scratched at his flesh as the transformation overcame him. Hands at the rim of the bowl, his once small mouth elongated and took new shape. His ears, little and unassuming, stood to attention. His skin erupted in fur.
The apron of Lodri the baker tore itself to accommodate his new musculature. His hands, soft and supple, hardened. Long, black claws tore through the tender tips of his fingers, and a shock of bright silver burst at the base of his spine; he became one with the animals.
The bright moon hovered overhead, and he called to it with his first howl.
Whispers not his own ran hot through his mind. His black claws gripped the rim of the bowl as he attempted to quiet his thoughts.
He could smell each Were gathered. But not just smell them; sense them.
Their heartbeat. Their individual scent. Their every rustle and wag.
He looked up.
Up.
The Weres still towered over him, he noted. His heart sank.
I - I'm not - why am I still so small-?
Overpowered by senses previously unexplored, he fell to his knees and grasped the bright curls of his silver mane. The distant crunch of grass echoed in his mind as he struggled to come to a sense of equilibrium.
I must finish the transformation-! He despaired. I haven't grown a bit--!
Before he knew it, Lodri found himself scooped into the arms of the shaman wolf. With a black claw, he booped the new Were's nose tenderly and called to the others:
"This is the second of the litter. Inform the Alpha; we feast this morn!"
The words tumbled out of his maw, "I - I - what am I?" Light and color danced before him. "Am I... strong?"
The headdressed wolf, that priest of the Rite, bounced the newly-made Were in his arms. With great care, he hushed him, rocking him back and forth.
"Do not concern yourself, little wolf; you will soon be taken care of. You, Omegas - gather the sub garb. The Alpha will want to see the additions to his harem at their best."
Lodri choked. Harem?
"Sir Wolf, I--"
The headdressed Were bounced him again, shushing him lovingly. "It's alright, little one; we'll take good care of you. Not all wolves are made for war, after all!"
"But, then, why did I--"
Before he could finish his protest, the headdressed Were stuffed a strange implement into his maw. A ring of translucent material hung freely from the shield in his mouth.
A pacifier.
Lodri kicked up a fuss, pushing his footpaws into the older Were. He was met with an even tighter cuddle.
"There, there, little pup -" The Ritemaster cooed. "It's alright. You haven't any powers, as it turns out - so you'll just have to please your Alpha in other ways, won't you?"
Lodri tilted his head.
Please them?
The boy-made-wolf slumped forward in his cage with a humiliated frown. A pacifier, bound tightly around his head so he could not remove it, rattled as the ring swung freely. His frontpaws were similarly tied with leather, and his footpaws were clipped so as to be as useless as human feet.
Maybe he had the wrong idea about all of this.
He took in his environment - a small room in the cavern shaped from stone to be a bit more homey - and wondered if, for a moment, he were being punished. His eyes fell on a series of strange, leather-bound contraptions and tables with bizarre, colorful prints. A strange scent - distant, masked by powders and soft, perfumed oils, but unmistakably sour - hung stale in the cavern air. Was this a hell? Was he... dead?
A group of Weres - much taller than he, certainly - cooed and made fun of the poor pup even as they talked amongst themselves.
"A second one - can you believe it!" Said one.
"The Most High'll be well entertained this night, to be sure." Answered another. "Who'd've thought Avenfirth, home of the brave, would cough up two subs in one go?"
Subs? Lodri thought as they all sniggered.
Another Were entered the small room with a bundle of clothes in arms. He knelt down to level with Lodri through the cage and wriggled his nose, making sucking noises and grinning with a fatherly tenderness.
"Tha's cute, eh!" He said. He laid out the outfit and opened the cage with a creak. "Right, then, little pup; we're gonna get you ready for the big party!"
Lodri tilted his head in naked confusion.
"It'll be a feast to celebrate eight new warriors and two new concubines - it isn't every century Alpha gets some new arse - right, boys?" He chuckled.
The others howled and whooped.
The Were reached into the cage and retrieved Lodri with one arm. Holding him on his hip, he pointed to the bright blue cloth laid out to reveal itself. It appeared to be a soft, blue gown of sorts, the kind a babe would wear. Silken booties and strapped mittens lay on top, and a bonnet completed the set.
"We'll 'ave you lookin' right smart for the Alpha, won't we, little Lodri?" The Were cooed, pressing a claw into the puppy's tummy.
Lodri's hair stood on end.
What _was_this?
Another Were entered the small room bearing a white square and some black object, like a long fruit, in paws.
"I've got the nappy and plug 'ere, brother." He announced, heaping them onto the growing pile of accessories. "Looks like the li'le tyke's awake, isn' 'e?"
The Were bounced Lodri on his hip and pinched his cheek. "Sure is. Let's get 'im ready for the Alpha, boys!"
The Weres laid him out on a colorful, block-patterned floor mat. A muffled complaint sounded from behind Lodri's pacifier, but they all took turns ruffling his hair and scritching his belly and ignored his obvious outrage.
"Such a cutie!" One said, producing a pair of clippers. He set to work trimming back the hairs over the new cub's unruly crotch. Another took to combing his hair and still another busied himself dusting his bum and privates with a sweet-smelling powder.
"Now, Lodri," the main Were began. His voice adopted a false sternness as he took the black tool in hand. "Little cubs can't control themselves," he explained, lifting the little wolf's legs. Lodri's eyes snapped open and he groaned in protest behind his pacifier. "Which is why we'll need to put this -" he pressed the black plug against Lodri's tender, pink star, "--in here."
With a push, it wedged itself between his bubbly cub-cheeks. "At least until after the Alpha's 'ad 'is chance to look at ye - can't 'ave you smellin' up the place on your first show, can we?"
Lodri's eyes welled with tears as the Were violated his hole. A rubbery knot kept the plug from penetrating deeper - but, similarly, it prevented it from coming back out. His tail - an unusual extension of his body which he was not yet used to - flagged as his boy-hole stretched to accommodate the intrusive object.
"There we go - not so bad, is it?" He grinned, pinching the little cub's rear. With a gentle smack, he signaled the pup to lower his legs again.
A pathetic whine rang in Lodri's throat where words failed him.
"N'awww, don't put on so, little cub!" The Were cooed, unfolding the strange nappy with an audible crinkle. A pattern of foxes at play emblazoned the front panel, which he quickly drew up between his legs. "This'll 'elp keep your little bum dry for the morning, it will; magic-pressed leaf shell stuffed with alchemical, eh... well, for you silly li'le duffer - fluff!"
"The alchemist calls them 'diapers' on account of the diamond pattern on the inner layer." One of the Weres added. He seemed to have been proud to know that.
With a couple of rips, the Were sealed Lodri in this 'diaper' with bright, blue tabs lined with a sort of... adhesive? Whatever sorcerous paste it was, it held them fast.
"There we are!" The massive Were said, running a claw through either leg hole. It fit snugly and felt surprisingly comfortable. "Let's get this gown fitted on ye--"
A growl rumbled in the back of Lodri's throat. He thrashed his shoulders violently but was quickly subdued by some force. The tallest and most imposing of the wolves held out a claw much like Fang Oden had and grinned.
"There, there, little cub; we can't have you hurting yourself."
"I will prepare a nursing bottle, brother." Another of the wolves said.
"Be quick about it - we're losing time." The lead Were warned. "Let's finish dressin' 'im and be on our way!"
Dawn's blush crept well into the sky by the time the procession began.
From the sounds of the outside, they were in a procession of some sort. All he knew is he was tucked safely into a baby carriage and given a bottle of milk with a hushed command to "be good."
As curious as he was bewildered, Lodri pulled back the curtain on the carriage and took in the scene.
It was as he imagined the circuses of neighboring kingdoms to be: A dizzying, licentious display of color and festivity amid torches and long banquet tables. This circus was run by wolves.
Smaller Weres - not unlike himself, he noted - entertained the gathered multitudes with dancing and fire-spinning. Some wore leathers over that same puffy, bizarre garment they forced Lodri to wear, others made due with just diapers alone. Large Weres, squat Weres, tall Weres and old Weres all reveled around the servant diaper-boys who served ale and wine in leather skins.
Some of them, he noted, danced lewdly in the laps of their keepers, rears plump and yellowed with, by the smell of it... Were-urine.
A particularly shocking scene of a sub - that's what they called them, right? - with his diaper pulled down caught Lodri's attention. He begged for mercy as a larger Werewolf paddled him over his knee with the long of his palm. His rear showed red even through his fur and he jumped with a yipe after each impact.
Lodri retreated back into the relative safety of the carriage. It was dark, and warm, and afforded him time to think.
What a strange world he wandered into!
But whatever happened to Samien? And what of the curs who had a laugh over him? Maybe they were in the main procession. If the cries of jubilation were any indication, the newly-minted Werewolves couldn't be too far ahead.
He gripped the bottle given him by his Were caretakers and eyed it thoughtfully. A growl in his tummy signaled his time to feed.
He was no baby, he maintained, but when you have to eat...
Hungrily, he took the nipple of the bottle in his maw and nursed. Milk ran in rivulets down his face as his eyes rolled back in pleasure.
Maybe, he allowed himself to think, maybe this isn't so bad.
The carriage stopped abruptly. Lodri lurched forward, bottle still in maw.
Curiously, he poked his snout through the curtains of the carriage. The skies were a bright blue, now, with the dawn sun climbing ever higher.
He saw the two Fangs stood on a grand stage of twisted wood. They held their paws behind them solemnly as the crowd of Werewolves simmered down.
"My brothers!" Fang Andred cried out, lifting a single paw as a fist in triumph. "The Serpent of the Unshaes is dead - and Avenfirth has paid her due!"
A round of howling and cheering erupted from the crowds. Were and sub alike clapped and stomped in celebration.
"For our victory, we have received ten fine offerings from the Towns of Avenfirth, our first home," he went on. "And ten of those offerings have survived their transformations. Step forward, men-made-beasts!"
The hordes of revelers thinned around a group of slightly bewildered Werewolves who, upon realizing their summons, stepped timidly forward.
Lodri didn't recognize any of them. Facial structure doesn't translate well in Werewolf transformations, it would seem.
"You will notice only eight stand before me," Fang Andred continued. He turned, abruptly, addressing a high hut, luxurious and untouchable as it sat nestled in low-bearing cliffs that overlooked the gathering ground. "Eight strong and true men of Avenfirth, Alpha Most High. We have also brought back not one, but two of the ten that will join the harems of Vargheim!"
Again, the crowds dissolved into howls of praise.
Lodri retreated once more into the carriage, slurping noisily on the nipple. The more he drank, the hungrier he felt - he hadn't eaten since yesterday, after all.
A voice boomed over the cheers and sent the new sub's ears flat.
"Bring forth these offerings; I wish to see them for myself."
The curtain of his carriage was drawn back, revealing once more the two Fangs and above them, on a balcony of the grand hut above, an even larger, fearsome creature. He assumed it could only be this Alpha they all spoke of.
Suddenly, he was hoisted out of the carriage by a pair of long, Were arms. He was lifted, tail curled behind his legs, to the view of the Alpha and all present. He sucked nervously on the bottle, as if to hide his shame behind it.
By his side, he noticed, was another little Were lifted in the same fashion, dressed in a baby gown with booties and all. His tail wagged feebly.
He could hear stifled sniggering from the array of his comrades. No doubt Owir was one of them.
"Cute ones, these." The Alpha said. His long dreads of dark fur bound in beads of bone knocked against one another as he regarded the whole scene before him. "And I sense strong hearts among each of our new warriors. The Towns of Avenfirth were truly grateful, it seems."
"Indeed, Most High." Fang Andred agreed. He knelt with a paw crossed over his chest. "The Right of First Day is yours, my Alpha; we offer you these fine subs, that you may taste first of their tenderness."
Panic seized Lodri. Taste?
He dropped his bottle with a piercing shatter. Milk and glass lied in a heap beneath them.
With a growl, he swiped one footpaw, and then another, hoping to throw off his handler and gain freedom. He thrashed violently in the Were's arms, who could only tighten his grip on Lodri's sides.
But the little wolf would not be contained.
His maw frothed in a spitting frenzy as he kicked and flailed. He would be no wolf's meal.
The Fangs both turned to the sudden commotion. Their looks were ones of outrage.
"You will show your rightful submission--!" Fang Andred commanded. As he raised a claw, another voice came as a chuckle--
"Stay your hand, Andred." The Alpha said, resting his cheek upon his knuckles. His loyal Fang froze mid-motion, ensorcelled by some unseen force. Lodri, too, fell limp in the arms of the greater Were against his will.
The voice went on, "It has been far too long that I have desired such a spirited sub for myself. My loyal Omegas, present to me these gifts and I will indeed test their affections until the fall of dusk. The spoils fall to you on the morrow."
Fang Andred stumbled forward, released suddenly from his Alpha's hold, and caught himself on the knee. He shook off his embarrassment with a toss of his shoulders and raised his gaze to address the crowd.
"You heard him - bring forward the subs, and a wineskin for each of our new warriors! We feast, brothers! Glory to the Weres!"
The throngs thundered in response, "And to the Alpha!"
With that, the merrymaking began anew.
Lodri's Omega handler carried the young Were to the very top of the low-slung cliff that housed the Alpha's hut. Once inside, the larger Were greeted his Alpha with a submissive dip of his nose and gingerly placed the little Were into a cage colored with the bright blue of the sky. Its bars were far too high for Lodri, but could easily be crossed by any other Were.
The young cub's head lolled behind him, still under the effects of whatever foul magic the Alpha placed on him. But his thoughts ran fiery and defiant.
I didn't sign up for this, he thought. This is not the glory of the Weres! Filthy monsters!
He could not even muster the strength to growl. So relaxed, he felt a pooling accompanied by a noisy hiss stream into the front of his diaper.
I am surely not...
His eyes met another sub's as his handler gently sat him next to Lodri. With a pat on both their heads, he smiled warmly.
"Play well, young cubs, and you may find yourselves here someday."
"Thank you, Omegas." The Alpha said somewhat gruffly. He fanned them away with an aloof paw. "I dismiss you."
Both handlers bowed out, closing the wrought wooden door behind them.
The positively gigantic Alpha lied on his side as he wrestled a litter of small cubs with his massive paws. They were all clad only in these strange diaper garments and growled and panted at him the way actual wolf cubs would at play with their father. Some tug-o-warred with rope toys, others batted at each other with little paws.
There was something strikingly different about this Were, however. He was larger, and significantly more imposing, even as he reclined in a den of pillows and puppies. And unlike his brethren, who showed fur in bright silver and occasional white, he was a wolf dark and rich, with fur that shimmered like burnished iron. His eyes, uncharacteristic of the cool blues of his lessers, were as bright emeralds set in a well-formed face.
His dress was also noteworthy; a cloth of fine linen girded him with prints of gold leaf and intricate patterns of Were runes. Bands of jewelry, heavy bracers of silver and ebony, ran the length of his muscular arms, leaving one with the impression that his muscle tone was a result of their weight alone.
"Yes, my little pups, you've all got some playmates today, haven't you?" He cooed.
The other sub in the cage sank hopelessly against the bars of this bizarre pen. The silken baby gown, much too large for him, Lodri noted, drew itself up and laid bare his diaper, swollen yellow with pungent Were-piss.
At least he wasn't alone on that one.
Suddenly, Lodri was released from the Alpha's sorcery. He bolted upright and looked around in a panic: he was surrounded by large, adorable animals stuffed with wool and colorful blocks and strange contraptions with belts and swings.
"Hi there," the other sub said, his nose dipped. His dignity lay in the front of his nappy.
Lodri scowled at him and said nothing. He was likely one of those arseholes - those were the chances, anyway.
"Friendly sort, aren't you?" He prodded. "Well, s'pose I'll extend the courtesy; I'm Samien - and I'd really like to know who of us you were."
Lodri's eyes met Samien's and fell to the floor searchingly. He suddenly felt sick.
Not him, too... What have they done to us?
"Oh, Samien..." He bunched his gown over his own diaper, fresh with wee. "It's... it's me, Lodri."
The older boy's eyes, blue with the light of the Weres, widened with surprise.
"I... see. Well, that's a bit of a comfort, honestly. Couldn't bear the others seeing me like this." He forced a smile.
Lodri looked down. There was nothing to smile about.
Then, his stomach gave a noisy squeal. It burbled and talked to him.
The boys caught eyes and instantly dissolved into laughter.
"Are you hungry, little brother?" Samien chuckled.
"No, I've... just had my, ehm... bottle." Lodri admitted sheepishly. He pantomimed a sucking motion, as a babe would. "Must be my ins working."
Sam placed a paw over his. Their eyes met again - a different color now, but bearing the same soul as before.
"I'm glad it's you here with me." He confessed.
As he shifted a leg, a distinct crinkle against sodden gel crackled noisily. He frowned. "Are we really meant to - you know - in these?"
Lodri nodded sadly.
"And for how long, exactly?" Sam asked. His voice grew almost desperate; he pulled at his gown. "Please gods tell me we at least have the bucket for a shit?"
Lodri wasn't so sure. His belly gurgled again - it wasn't something he wanted to think about.
Suddenly, the Alpha's voice rose over the play of his young.
"So, my boys..." He began. He lied on a couch of large cushions, flanked by a couple of other subs on either side - quite attractive, Lodri thought strangely - at the other end of the large hut. "Which of you would like to meet your older brothers first?"
Samien moved to speak. "I..."
Lodri rattled the bars of the massive playpen. "Neither of us, you animal! We want nothing to do with you or your filthy village!"
The Alpha's litter gave a collective gasp and huddled into their papa.
As for the Alpha, well...
He smiled.
"Little Lodri," he started. With one freakishly fluid motion, he lifted his muscular, tree-like form from his pillowed den, arms crossed. He stood at the full height of the massive hut like an iron idol. "You are quite the brat, I must say. Luckily for you, I do like a naughty cub."
Samien nudged Lodri. He shook his head violently, a caution against any further rashness.
But Lodri would have none of it.
"Take my name from your mouth, beast," he spat, tearing off his bonnet. His innards rolled again, this time with a sickly cramp. "I... eurgh, won't let you say it again."
"You won't?"
"No." Lodri answered. His face was one of perfect obstinacy. Yet another wave of cramps roiled through him to his visible discomfort, but still he stared the much larger Were down.
"Oh, puppy." The Alpha tsked. "And here I was, the Alpha of Vargheim, thinking you could be broken in. You really showed so much promise."
A rush of wind was all that was heard as the Alpha vanished.
The subs' hair stood on end as they sensed his presence behind them.
They each looked up, and he smiled down on them with a predatory smile, his green eyes piercing their very souls. With a massive paw, he scooped up Samien into the crook of his elbow. The little pup offered no resistance but shook like a leaf.
"Though I still hold out hope for your training, I fear my time with you is concluded." The enormous Were stepped lightly over the bars of the pen. The earth creaked underfoot. "We shall play, then, without you, until you learn what it means to be a good little boy."
Lodri glowered with bushy, lupine eyebrows. His stare turned into a wince as his insides groaned again, and he with them.
His cheeks burned hot. He was angry, but also... embarrassed? Frightened? Truly, he had never felt so far from strong in his entire young life.
He gripped the bars of his pen as he watched his only friend in this whole world be carried off with the Alpha. Samien sat his head on the massive Were's shoulder, casting a sad look behind him. His eyes were doleful, apologetic.
Lodri fell to his knees as his bowels racked him once again. He moaned as his arms folded over his belly, and he pressed his forehead into the bars. The black plug in his bum bobbed achingly with every clench of his sphincter.
Gods above, did he have to shit. But he wasn't about to let him have this indignity, too.
Gingerly, he sat on his rear and began to rock into the round of his crinkling diaper. The plug pressed deeper into him, sparing his diapers the sudden brew in his lower tummy. He gave an unexpected groan as it massaged his prostate but pushed his shame further into him.
"Look at that, little cubs--" the Alpha observed, pointing a massive claw at the sub in the prison-like pen, "--the lone wolf is trying to be a big, grown Were!"
His subs giggled. Sam hid his face behind little paws.
Lodri grunted as another spasm rocked his gut.
He didn't care that the others watched him. He wouldn't - couldn't - let the Alpha win.
As he rolled into the plug, a sickening burble threw him belly-up into the cushions of his pen. He held his tummy, head nestled in downy pillows, as the plug tented the cushy padding over his rear.
It was an agony.
At the other end of the hut, a pair of the Alpha's cubs had tents of their own. They exchanged coy glances as the others looked on at Lodri's struggle, and took each other by the maw. They fell, arms wrapped around each other, into the pillows of the Alpha's den.
Sagging, grey-and-yellow mottled bulk pressed between them as they groaned into their kiss. One climbed on top, rutting his squishy mass against the other.
The Alpha chuckled.
"My, my," his voice rumbled, gravelly and rich of timbre. "But if all my little ones aren't trying to feel big today!"
The pups whimpered and groaned as they had their way with each other. The others tore their attention from Lodri and watched their "brothers" act on the heat of the moment. It gave them ideas, too.
"Boys," the Alpha addressed them, clicking his tongue. "Let's fix you with your special belts, shall we? You know daddy likes to see his little ones at play."
The two broke their kiss and sat up attentively, tails crinklewagging excitedly.
Samien was utterly lost. His eyes flicked from them to the Alpha, and back again.
What is this?
From a small chest in a corner of the hut, the Alpha produced a pair of black, leather belts fitted with hoops and rings and... a strange protuberance not unlike what they put in both Sam and Lodri.
The pair got on their knees and panted at once. They cried out:
"Me first, me first!"
"No me, daddy!"
"--But he always goes first!"
Again, the Alpha chuckled, a giant looming over them with god-like stature. Deftly, he fitted the strange contraptions over them at the same time, one with each hand.
The belts fit snugly over their swollen rears and webbed a single, steel ring just over where their tail holes sat. From their fronts, pulled tight against the sagging sling of their diapers, protruded a massive, black dildo.
The realization of the purpose of these devices dawned on Samien with a strange mixture of disgust and... strangely arousing curiosity.
"Play nicely, boys." Were the Alpha's only words.
And they did.
They wrestled each other, rolling amongst the pillows and furs, somersaulting over one another to fit their piece into the ring of the other. It was something of a sport, really.
As they tumbled over in the sheets, a noisy blrrt sounded from the other end of the hut.
The Alpha smiled but did not look away from his boys at play.
Tears streamed down Lodri's face as his plug rode a spray of hot slop down the curve of his diaper. Farts, windy but muted, followed.
As he lied on his back, the creased wall of plastic over his bum bloomed with a deep, muddy gray. In chunky, painful blurts, it rumbled outward and sent the plug up against his own member.
To his very great disgust, his cock grew against the length of the loose toy.
The Alpha hummed noisily.
"And what is that smell?" He said. With a dramatic twirl that jangled his boney dreads, he regarded the poor cub as he filled his diaper. "Ohh, the poor thing."
A rush of wind was all that Lodri heard before the Alpha's paws were upon his cheeks. His face, ancient but handsome, peered into his own. Blue eyes met green, and for a moment, he felt almost... happy.
"That's alright, little wolf." He crooned. "We all have accidents from time to time."
Lodri grimaced as another rush of fresh dirt, more solid this time, pushed his punished pampers out yet farther. The plastic crackled, straining against his stinking load.
"...There we go." A thumb stroked his cheek lovingly.
With a final doot and a heavily-sweated forehead, the little cub sighed and groaned with displeasure. His cheeks burned hot red under his silvery fur; he was defeated.
"Ohh, my boy," the Alpha cooed, taking the sub up into his arms. He took great care to make sure he straddled the crook of his elbow. He gave him a gentle bounce. "Just look at the state of you!"
Hot mess pressed into him with each lift.
In his supreme embarrassment, he folded his face into the elder Were's shoulder. At least he didn't have to look at him.
His snout pressed into the Alpha's dreads and he caught a whiff of burning sandalwood and other musky perfumes. It was quite manly, and no doubt princely.
"But I'm afraid you'll just have to watch us play, little Lodri." He smiled coldly. A firm pat on the back of Lodri's head said all it needed to. "I don't much care for stinky puppies who don't listen to their daddy."
He took the little Were with him and came to another corner of the hut in a single, supernatural stride.
"You had your chance," he scolded. He pushed a paw against Lodri's loaded rear, eliciting a quiet moan from over his shoulder. "But I think you need some training before you're ready for the Alpha."
With a massive arm, the Alpha presented a strange contraption built of leather and bizarre motifs of cute baby animals. At the very top dangled a mobile of wolf pups and crescent moons. It hung over a strange sling of sorts, fitted over with belts and locks in a frame that secured the whole of it.
"But what Alpha would I be if I didn't let you watch our play?" He smiled again. His eyes smoldered like mesmerizing, green flames.
Lodri grimaced as he was lowered into the contraption, his heavy rear squishing noisily against a strip of leather. As the Alpha released, the poor Were settled in a cushion of his own, warm filth. He loosed a groan and kicked his footpaws off the ground.
To his surprise, he bounced.
And bounced...
And bounced.
With each bob, the state of his pants only worsened. He could feel the mud over his rear ooze between his nethers with each thrust of his footpaws - and there was no stopping it. The mechanism, whatever it was, wouldn't allow it.
A massive paw of deep, smoky grey pat his head. He looked up at the Alpha, whose smile filtered down on him from a cruel face.
"There we are, little stinker: front row to Samien's first playtime with daddy Alpha."
"Fuck--"
Before he could loose another oath, that familiar nipple wedged itself between his maw. Its ring clacked against its shield.
Another pacifier.
With a chuckle, the Alpha turned to his boys. By now, he was sporting a rather large erection which not even his waistcloth could hide.
The two with dildo-belts continued to wrestle each other, but the others, free and wanting for their daddy's attention, mewled pathetically at the Alpha's footpaws. Rubbing their faces against his claws, they begged:
"Dadda, me bum needs a scritchin'!"
"Daaa, can ya breed me today? 'e always gets ta 'ave 'is fun!"
Samien was decidedly less enthusiastic about it all.
Shuffling his paws behind him, he edged away from the bizarre scene, hoping to be merely an onlooker like Lodri - sans the loaded diaper, of course.
But daddy Alpha picked him up from under the armpits. With a gentle boop on his sniffer, he cooed: "Not you too, little Sammy! You'll be a good pup for daddy - unlike a certain smelly little boy - won't you?"
Samien moved to speak, but the words were torn from him as a whirl of color brought him to the floor, tummy down, his rear raised into the air against his will. His babe-gown tumbled downward over his face.
He gave a whimper but knew fighting it was pointless.
"Your first lesson, Lodri, is one in obedience," the Alpha instructed. He lowered the fine, linen cloth from his waist, revealing a massive, swollen wolf member. A pearl of precum ran down its length, and the whole of it glistened like a crimson blade jutting from a black iron sheath. "Be agreeable, and you shall find yourself wanting for nothing."
Sam trembled under the shadow of the Alpha. His heightened senses told him that his better was de-robing, though he dared not look behind him. He focused only on surviving this ordeal.
There they were, a couple of little Weres rolling around, feebly seeking dominance over the other, while two others begged the massive arsehole for scraps of pleasure. His friend lay there, poised to take the wankstick of that very same arsehole, and there was precious little Lodri could do about it.
The scene infuriated him.
He punched the air with a paw, unable to remove his pacifier, and in doing so, launched himself into a bout of rapid bounces, further squishing his poopy pants into himself. He gave a desperate whine and acknowledged, for the briefest of moments, that perhaps he wasn't in the position to assert himself.
"Now..." said the Alpha, gripping his massive dick in a paw. A clear slop oozed over it, like a sort of lubrication for this unholy act. "Daddy'll need you to hold still, little pup."
And hold still Samien did.
His back went rigid as daddy took his bushy, silver tail in paw, lifting it with a noisy crinkle. The strange plastic folded around his tail like a paper bun garnish, but that simply wouldn't do.
With a massive claw, the Alpha pressed into the sodden material.
Samien's eyes snapped opened as the crackle of strained plastic behind him gave way with a dull pop. The black claw was now rummaging around moist clumps of alchemical gel in his diapers, searching achingly for his quivering starhole.
Then, it found the bump in the squishy mess - Sam's plug was just below.
The dildo-boys fed on this excitement. One managed to mount the other and rammed his pseudo-peen into the bum-ring of his playmate. The plastic stretched noisily but didn't tear, and the Were below managed to roll out from under his "top." A discolored divot remained where the material weakened, but still they continued their contest.
Samien's paws folded over each other in prayer as he begged the silent gods for their assistance. He could feel the point of daddy's claw find purchase in the rut of his boy-cheeks before tearing through the inner fabric. With a wiggle, the claw widened the hole in his pampers. The black knob of his plug showed prominently through his silver asscheeks.
Daddy gave it a twist with a predatory smile. Samien groaned, eyes rolling back into his head; he learned from Lodri not to fight it.
With a grunt from Samien, the plug came out, revealing a bright pink pucker hiding under his silver tail. He gave a low whimper and merely bowed his head into his hands. The flaps of his baby gown fell over his arms.
Lodri growled and his footpaws scraped against the floor as he witnessed the violation of his only friend. But again, his rear squelched noisily under the press of so much stinky. A sanguine blush - a rare mixture of embarrassment and rage - burned over his face.
The Alpha guided his massive piece into the makeshift hole in Samien's diapers. Its entire length glistened with that strange lubrication as it sailed slowly, gently into him.
The little Were gave a noisy yelp and instinctively raised his rear higher as the Alpha took his absolute virginity. He bit down on a knuckle to muffle himself, but let out a pained moan as the audible parting of asslobes - a sound something like the splitting of a peach - resounded throughout the wide hut.
This was, apparently, the norm for the little Weres, and they all grew restless in witness of it.
The tumbling two began to snap and snarl at each other, dicks swollen against their dildoe'd belts, while the other two took to rubbing their own bums against daddy Alpha's paws.
Daddy, of course, pressed a claw under each of their tails, and, familiar with the contour of their bodies over many years of amorous adventure, quickly inserted himself into their rears, fucking them with the massive length of his fingers. They panted happily, beads of saliva pattering from their slack maws.
"Oh, Samien, you're such a good boy!" The Alpha groaned, bucking into his young prize. His red length began to pump in and out of his white(-ish) diaper.
It had been some time since he last partook of such tight ass, truly.
Lodri glowered at the disgusting display, footpaws jiggling gently as his body bounced in the sling. The mobile above turned and let out a silly tune, but he was not amused.
Without warning, the toy that had once plugged him, stewing now in waste, began to vibrate with a strange power against his sheath.
Hating himself and the gods who placed him here, he let out a stifled moan behind the pacifier. He could feel himself emerging in the slick as he buoyed in the saddle.
Samien let out a cry into his knuckles as the Alpha lowered his chest over the pup's head, forcing him to hike his padded ass yet higher, and pounded it more freely. He was as an iron mountain looming over a precious vein of silver.
His claws continued to finger his little ones as the dildo rascals tumbled over each other in a near blur, snarling and growling with their roughhouse. It was then that one pinned the other down, lifting his rear - and with it, the dildo - before positioning it in the dent he had left before.
He leaned in, whispering, "Got ya, liddle bro!" before ramming it through, tearing straight into the plastic and slipping neatly into the puppy's quivering star. With powerful, hormone-driven pumps, he worked the baby Were's rectum underneath him as his own boner glided against piss-swollen gel.
The Alpha's fuck quickened, and he began to moan noisily over Sam's shoulder as he mashed the soggy padding between them.
Much to his surprise, Samien allowed himself to moan, too, his maw flat against the floor and ears folded in submissively. With each blow to his tight ass, his own piece ground against the pissy confines of his diaper. His dick throbbed painfully.
Lodri, taken up against his will in this strange scene, was unable to help himself. The bouncing contraption he was in bobbed him up and down, pressing clay and vibrating toy against his unsheathed cock. The air was noisome now, like that of a perfumed babe that had just soiled himself, but that only served to drive him on.
He rocked into his front, humping against the leather strap that sat him, driven wild by some instinct beyond his understanding.
Finally, the Alpha bit down on Samien's neck as a papa wolf would his young pup, and gave Samien's plump rear one last series of feverish, dick-knocking thrusts. His entire length hilted inside the boy, a veiny blade finding its silver scabbard deep in the puppy's rectum.
Lodri forgot in his excitement that this violation angered him, and his voice joined the others in an ecstatic howl as he blew rope after rope of lupine milk - his very first time - into his piddle-pants.
The Alpha's muscular ass clenched as he, too, climaxed. So massive was his load that his dick burst from the padded hole below him, spraying diaper-plastic and pillow alike with free-flying globs of cum.
The force of his cum pushed Samien forward an inch or so, as happens when a balloon is filled with water too quickly. The poor boy moaned as his own, meager seed trickled against his length.
The Alpha raised himself, unplugging his young ones, and admired the hole before him. It was bloodless, perfectly tight, but well-used and oozing with seed.
"Ah, Samien, my dear boy," he sighed, chest heaving, "You shall stay with your Alpha." The other pups, panting from their own orgasms, yipped and howled triumphantly at this newest addition. Such an occasion had not occurred in the last hundred years.
He sat on his knees and turned to Lodri, who had apparently also enjoyed himself.
"As for you, stinky," he said. In one movement, he was towering over the sodden pup. "You have much potential, despite your obvious cheekiness. My loyal Andred shall watch over you as his own, and perhaps, in time, he will render you unto me."
Lodri looked up at his Alpha's green eyes and whimpered. His oozing diaper gave an audible squish as he tried to cross his legs in shame.
The Alpha's nostrils flared.
"But for now," he grinned, lifting the little pup from the bouncer, a dark paw under each armpit, "We'll need to change that smelly bum!"