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Chapter 40 - Journey

“Takeaway tonight eh?” Alek says, taking his seat. “Makes a nice change, it’s been a while.”

“Yes master,” Hess replies as the wolves are permitted to sit and start filling their plates. “I just didn’t want to cook.”

“We appreciate it nonetheless, it was very kind of you to do this for us.” The master adds, making him fluster. “I notice your Warhammer set is out. Have you been showing our new wolf how to play?”

“Yes master, just a little game. We’re going to play for real when he gets back from the hunt.”

“If we’re still doing that, Ember,” Voigt interjects, “don’t eat too much.”

“Yes I know,” the black wolf replies, nodding with a placating smile.

“Yes … of course.” Voigt clears his throat, embarrassed for assuming the skilled tribesman wouldn’t know not to stuff his face before going hunting.

“What will we be hunting?” Ember asks.

“Rabbits, there’s a field at the other end of the wood where they like to graze.”

“Sounds good. Do you use any particular method?”

“Um …” Voigt gulps a little and shifts his eyes to the other wolves. “Wait behind something and pounce?”

Cal turns to Ember and rescues the floundering older wolf. “We always try to come between them and their burrow and steer them towards each other, but no real technique beyond that.”

“Yeah that’s fine. We’re only after the thrill of the chase and the kill after all. When I hunted for the tribe or for myself, I would just use a torch and a bow. As I’m sure you know, once you bite the meat, it will spoil quickly and our human forms don’t like that very much,” he mutters with a mocking smile at inferior counterpart within. “But sometimes I’d just go out and hunt for the sake of hunting.”

“What did you the use torches for?” Cal queries.

“If they aren’t already shy from farmers doing it, rabbits can be stunned using a low power light with a colour filter. It’s called lamping.” Ember explains, dipping a wonton in sweet and sour sauce.

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“But yeah, this is just a hunt, no need to preserve the meat. It’s a shame there aren’t any deer. They’re great for cornering and running them down over an endurance run; rabbits are just really fast and slippery.”

“Got that right,” Voigt sighs. “Unfortunately, there aren’t any deer around here.”

“Oh well, I’m going to have a good time just being out, enjoying the bloodlust again instead of fearing it.”

Ember looks down at his food, the dream of killing Lewis still very prevalent, but he’s able to tell himself that the wretched human is still alive. The events from then until now proving to him that the world is right.

“So,” Alek says, steering the conversation. “I’ve decided that tomorrow we should go out together for a picnic for lunch. We can all go to that park beyond the village, you two remember the one.” Cal and Hess nod excitedly.

“That’s a really nice idea, master,” enthuses the white wolf who then looks across the table. “You’ve not seen it, Voigt, it’s beautiful; flowers everywhere. I’m sure you will love it too, dear,” he adds shifting his attention to the bulkier wolf on his left.

“It’s been years since I last had a picnic, unless you count a pack lunch, sat on my own,” Ember laughs at himself and finishes the last of his restrained portion.

“I hoped you’d all like the idea. I’ll need you to make us some finger foods, Hess.”

“Yes master,” the brown wolf affirms, whining softly as Voigt tips what’s left off his plate onto his own.

“Shouldn’t have bought so much if you can’t eat it all,” the grey wolf snickers and tousles Hess’s head fur. “I think you should tell the master the arrangement you now have with Ember, pup.”

“Oh?” Alek asks curiously, grinning as he watches Hess flush again.

“Y-yes, master … Ember has agreed to be my … owner,” he murmurs.

“I see.” The human grins wider and looks at the wolf in question. “I take it that’s why I haven’t seen him knocking at my door, begging me to take the chastity collar off yet.”

“Yes master, haven’t given him permission to be hard, yet.” Ember beams proudly.

“Adorable.” Alek chuckles and goes back to his food. “Well, as long you understand the hierarchy and that he’s hard for the machine tomorrow, that’s all I care about.”

“Yes master, you always have precedence,” Ember affirms with nod.

“Good boy. Since you’ve taken up this new role, perhaps I can assist. When I’ve built the new hot-swappable collars, I’ll give you an extra chastity tile for you to use on Hess as you please.” The brown wolf’s ears flatten instantly at this.

“Oh, thank you, master. That would be really useful.” Ember wags his tail and grins devilishly across the table at his new pet who fidgets and whimpers nervously.

“You’ve really got yourself in trouble with this one.” Voigt laughs and slaps Hess’s shoulder. “He’s got an evil streak.”

“He certainly does,” Cal puffs, recalling his torturous session, then quickly gets back to his own meal to avoid the eye contact he didn’t mean to attract.

“I wonder how submissive he can be in contrast.” Alek puts his cutlery down and interlocks his fingers in a steeple over the plate. The other wolves all share a look a subtle smirk as their master stares at the black wolf. “Perhaps I’ll have to find out. Would you like that, pet?”

“Um …” Ember gulps, instantly losing his confidence and bites his lip. “M-maybe, master. I-I don’t know”.

“How does the idea of being bound up on all fours and made to act like a dog sound?” He flits his eyes towards Cal who gives a nervous chuckle and tries to focus on his meal, embarrassed by being exposed in front of the others to the new wolf.

“It sounds … demeaning,” Ember says, idly wobbling his knife on the placemat. He looks at the other two wolves; Hess is smiling cheekily, excited by the idea of his owner being dominated, and Voigt looks nothing short of aroused.

“That’s the point, pup. Think about it, and maybe we’ll try it out sometime. Ask Cal about it too if you want more information.”

“Yes, master. I’ll think about it.”

“Good boy.”

“Oh, master,” Hess pipes back up, “does Ember have his PCL?”

“Yes, of course. I registered him for his provisional as soon as I got his name.” Alek raises an eyebrow quizzically. “Why do you ask?”

“He didn’t know about them.”

“Yeah, I assumed that would be the case. It’s quite common for werewolf tribes to only have a couple of members with licences to do trading. So either he knew about them but never needed one, or just didn’t know about them in the first place.” He looks back at Ember. “If you work for a company, you need a full civility licence; provisionals only allow you into human zones. Was your job cash-in-hand?” The wolf nods, and is met with a nod back. “Anywhere else would have required you have a bank account, which means having a background check. Which would then have meant that the bank would find out you were registered at birth as a werewolf and see if you’re licensed.”

“Yeah. I don’t even know how to get one.”

“Well now you don’t need to, because I got one for you. It’s actually not that difficult to get a provisional, it’s the full one that’s tricky. Without a representative like me on your side, you’d need another werewolf with a full licence and a human to vouch for you; and the test is harder.”

“Yeah, they don’t make it easy for us,” Hess adds. “My parents helped a bunch of us get licences, but if any of them commit a crime, they get points or something. Get too many and you have to take the test again.”

“Took a few pages from the driving law book.” Alek says, pulling Ember’s attention back. “By the way, I also took the liberty of getting a copy of your birth certificate, since I doubt you still have it.”

“Oh, no that would have still been at the tribe if they still had it.” Ember exhales sombrely. “Thank you master, for sorting all that out for me.”

“You’re welcome, pup. It’s actually part of my job.”

“How long do you think it will be before I get a full licence?”

“There’s a minimum time limit of two months without incident before they’ll allow a requisition.”

“Oh, so that’s where the two months or we’re set free thing comes from?”

“Yeah, I just tied it in with that.” Alek nods. “But remember, they can be taken away on relapse. Voigt got his as soon as they were introduced because of his time serving, but was reduced to a provisional when the Venatoriat found out he’d become a danger to men. Would you have had a full licence before you came here, both would have been revoked after the attack.”

Ember dips his head “Don’t worry, master,” he affirms determinedly and looks back up, “after all that’s happened, I have no intention of leaving or relapsing. If you’ll still want me after two months.” Ember says bashfully, at which Cal punches him cheekily on the arm.

“Don’t be so daft. Of course we would.” He answers for the master.

“Quite right,” Alek concurs, as do the other wolves. Ember produces a coy smile and thanks them.

—

The rest of the meal continues with little else worth mentioning. The master wishes the hunters luck on their endeavours and retreats to his study. Cal and Hess do the same and start taking away the dishes and remaining food to be stored in the fridge. Voigt leads Ember away to the vestibule where he pulls out a map of the nearby land.

“Here’s the manor,” he points, “and here’s the wood. We’ve found the most rabbit activity over here, near the corner of the field”

“Quite a fair ways out.” Ember notes.

“Yes, it’ll take us about 40 minutes to walk to, but it’s a good spot and will give the food in our stomach time to digest before we go running about.”

“So, we’re going now?”

“Unless you can think of a reason not to?” Voigt poses.

“No … I suppose not. I’m just a little nervous about being away from the master. I remember how bad the homesickness got just from being in town.”

“Yeah, not much you can do about that I’m afraid. Just have to suck it up, lad.” The older wolf sniffs and pats him on the shoulder. “You get used to it after a bit, but it’ll make you all the more glad when we’re on our way home.”

“Alright,” Ember mutters, not looking forward to experiencing that sensation again. “What about clothes?”

“We’re walking into the woods after dark, any people we come across are going to be more concerned about seeing a werewolf than seeing his junk.”

Ember smiles and shrugs. “Just checking.”

Voigt opens the back door into the cool summer evening and steps out into the fading light. Ember looks over at the sunset, seeing only the last few remaining sunbeams tracing the trees that obfuscate it. Their silhouette is dim in the vibrant dark as the corona loses purchase and slides away like a skin of honey. He stares up at the last of the golden glow, remembering how often he’d see the twilight emerge behind the trees of the forest as the last of the sun’s influence was pulled back to the horizon. Sometimes he’d witness the red sky and hurry to the lake to watch it melt weirdly over time, like a canvas trying to paint itself.

“My mother used to tell me stories of night wolves.” Ember says, watching the halo of light flicker as birds cut through the projection. “That once all mammals were furred and only a select few were gifted speech, intelligence and height. We could walk and learn and teach and hunt among our lesser fortunate allies and build encampments for them. Over time, what would be called Lupus Erectus, began to curse the sun in the hot months, and prayed to shed their fur. All those who were granted two-legged life were given this ability to change their body at will between three states. Ferakin, where they may run among the wild as one; Simikin, where they may build and commune with the wild and each other; and Pellikin, where the harsh daytime heat could be fought with thin cloth instead of fur.

“There would be some among the shifters of all mammals that preferred the skin over the fur and stayed that way all the time. It was easier to clean themselves, easier to get hot or cold as the need arose, and claimed it more enjoyable to mate. Over time, they began to lose their ability to shift and commune with their wild counterparts. Those that still could transform, could only go as far as Simikin, and only during the night when the ingrained resistance of the sun prevented them. And then when dawn broke, it became too difficult for them to maintain, so they all became the night wolves; werewolves in the new tongue. She told me there were still some out there that could shift to Ferakin; that she saw it herself once.”

He pulls his eyes away from the trees and turns to face Voigt who was looking in the same direction. “I don’t know if I believe it,” he continues, “but it’s a nicer story than us just being a plague upon the humans.”

“Yeah,” the older wolf says, “I prefer it.” He smiles and shuts the door before leading the other off into the back garden towards the shed. “What about how it spreads to humans? Did your mother have a story for that?”

“Yeah sorta. If a human gets our DNA, then they could recover the parts that were lost to them. Like it was awakening a part of them that had become dormant.”

“I suppose that makes sense. You should tell that story to the others, Cal would eat it up like a hungry puppy.”

“Heh, you think?” Ember asks, always feeling nervous when talking about his murderous family, even if it’s a pleasant story.

“Yeah, they’ll love it.” Voigt passes the shed and travels the other path at the fork towards the trees where Ember was original brought through on his first night. “So … is that why they did what they did? Your family?” He asks cautiously.

“They hated humans for many reasons, losing their friends to Hunters, wars fought on their land; just generally the decline of their kind. If the Pellikin hadn’t resisted changing for so long, there might never have been a ‘human’, only werewolf.”

“A world of shifters. I can only imagine”. Voigt laughs, ducking under a low branch. “What happened to the ones that kept the ability to transform into wolves?”

“There are a couple of theories; the most often told is that they were ashamed of those that squandered their gift and chose to return to their feral roots, where they remained. But I prefer to think that they simply still exist and hide among us; perhaps a dormant power passed down through the generations.”

“Perhaps you’re one of them.” Voigt chuckles in the way that he does and pats Ember’s shoulder.

“Doubt it. My family wouldn’t have been so cruel if I were.”

“If they even knew.”

“It’s just a story.” Ember smiles and looks out at the vast array of trees becoming denser as they travel deeper in.

The conversation peters out to a silence, only disturbed by the snapping of twigs, the rustle of leaves in the wind and underfoot, and the breathing and grunting of the two wolf men. The forest itself likely being an ancient home for some of their ancestral kind, but with nothing of that time remaining. After 20 minutes or so, they stop for a short break on a felled tree, sitting side by side.

“This is kind of exciting, I haven’t hunted for pleasure with another wolf since I was back at the tribe.” Ember says, looking down at his muddied bare feet, thankful of the thicker soles that comes with this form.

“How’s your stomach?” Voigt asks, pulling away a leaf that’d embedded into his fur.

“I’m good, I didn’t eat a lot. The energy is kicking in slowly.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “D’ya mind if I just take a piss real quick?”

“Uh,” Ember flicks his eyes down as the older wolf takes ahold of his sheath, squeezing it so the tip pokes out. The steam from his hot tip fluttering upward like a flame of vapour. “What, here?”

“I can go stand over by a tree if you prefer.”

“Oh … I-I guess I don’t mind” the black wolf says, his amber eyes glowing in the shimmers of moonlight escaping the net of leaves above.

Without letting the talk drag on, Voigt points the tip of his cock away from his body between his knees and sighs. The projected stream erupts from the tip and arcs outward landing noisily amid a pile of natural debris. The awkward juts of branches causing a random scatter to the splashes. Ember gulps, never having seen another man pee so confidently so close to him. The smell of cock musk, mixed with the tang of urine surges into his nose on the next inhale, causing him to shiver and his shaft to stir. He experiences the proxied feeling of relief as he watches and listens, knowing how good it feels to release. His body pines for it, making him want to urinate also.

He notices then how erotically Voigt is looking at him. The half-lidded eyes, cocked smile, brimming with assertive dominance. Ember’s face warms instantly, and forces himself to look away lest the heat from his cheeks fogs his vision. He can’t help but listen to the splattering of his golden rivulet as is marks the earth, causing the muscles holding the dam in his bladder to throb. He can’t take it anymore and quickly grabs his semi, pointing it away and starts peeing. The firmness of his penis, especially his knot, increases the pressure and makes the ejection considerably more violent.

He hears a lustful growl beside him, and notices in the periphery how he shuffles closer and slips an arm under his. His hand is levered away by another which grasps his cock tighter, eliciting a delicate whimper. Voigt steers Ember’s muzzle to face him and instantly locks their lips together in a passionate embrace. He squeaks and let’s his mouth be invaded by the foreign tongue, while his body continues to release its liquid waste. It becomes more difficult as his dick starts to stiffen more, spraying further and in pulses timed to his heartbeat, but his bladder persists until it is empty. A steady flow runs down the grey-furred hand and into the black of the sheath, now twinned with pre.

Voigt disconnects his mouth and looks down at the erect wolf’s cock, teasing the tip with a slick finger. Ember fidgets as he’s pleasured in the cool open air, remembering that he has a spare cum. He wonders if he should tell the older wolf or leave it as a surprise when he fucks him. He bites his lip and holds his tongue for now, until eventually the hand on him releases its grip and raises up as the wolf stands up. Brushing the bark and moss stuck to his bum, Voigt turns, his own erection exposed from the sheath. He stands domineeringly, looking down expectantly at the younger wolf.

“Suck it, pup,” he commands, waggling his cock temptingly.

Ember gulps, looking at the hot shaft as it steams in the cold air, smelling more strongly now it’s up close. He glances up at the wolf who owns it as he steps closer still, only making the scent and his desire to proceed that much more potent. Thrilled by the idea of doing this outdoors, he brings his face close and opens his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” he says meekly and takes it in.

The flavour matches the scent, coating his tongue in the natural lubricant from inside the sheath, along with a touch of sweat, pre and piss. The concoction is unusual but not altogether unpleasant as it slips in deeper between his teeth. He closes his jaws with it halfway in, letting his tongue trap it to the roof of his mouth; the heat of the flesh warming his lips as it makes contact and forms an air seal. He voices an exhale through his nose as he pulls his tongue back, up along the length of the cock, kneading out a trickle of fresh precum, which he swills over the surface of the head.

Voigt looks down at the black wolf as he tastes his cock for the first time. He grunts as it slips in, feeling the warmth of the muzzle around his most sensitive part and the ginger laps of the tongue inside. He rests a hand on the wolf’s head and threads his fingers through tufts of fur, cupping the skull. With a gentle but insistent tug of his arm, he brings the submissive forward, pushing his member deeper inside until the wolf’s lips kiss the rim of his sheath. The swollen knot encased within, gladly preventing it from snapping back.

The older wolf stays stood and observant and ponderous as his shaft is serviced so keenly. If they were to stop this now and continue on to the edge of the woods, they would have to exert a lot of energy to try and catch enough of the little buggers to make it worthwhile. By the time they’re done, he knows he won’t have nearly the available libido to then fuck him in the manner he would like. They could break away early, but then there’s the added problem that after killing a wild animal, they’d need to be careful about keeping the rabbit’s blood out of the way. Which means no more kissing or oral. He groans deeply, feeling that enthusiastic tongue lap at his cock head, moments before it all disappears again inside the muzzle. He makes an executive decision and pulls his cock out, so he can slip a finger into Ember’s D-ring and coaxes his face upward until their eyes lock.

“Screw the rabbits,” he growls in his usual deep tenor. “Do you wanna just fuck instead?”

Ember’s tail wags instantly, answering well before his voice gets chance. “Yes sir,” he replies in a horny drone, “I’ll be your prey.”