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Splice: Conditioning

FREE Preview Chapter 2

By Billi Wolf

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Splice: Conditioning version 1.0 is a piece of near-future erotic science fiction, and is intended for adult audiences. If this is personally objectionable to you or illegal for you to read in your area, please return this manuscript or eBook from whence it came.

Copyright: © Billi Wolfe, 2019. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Billi Wolf is a pen name representing the legal author and copyright owner of this work of fiction.

Foreword

Let's get this out of the way: You're here for sexy stuff with humans and were-creatures. You're going to get a ton of it both in the free chapters, and in the full book.

Yes there's a story, and there's a bit of sci-fi. But mostly there's sex with Splices, which for the moment means a sciency version of weredogs. In the full novel, over half the chapters have at least once sex scene, and a few chapters have threesomes and orgy scenes. There's straight stuff, gay stuff, group stuff, foot stuff, bondage stuff, breeding stuff, outdoors stuff, indoorsstuff... plenty to enjoy!

So, why did I pick Splices / weredogs for my first big novel, instead of the traditional werewolves? Science. Humans have a ton of data on dogs. And they have access to hundreds of different breeds without any fuss. It was more realistic to do genetic experiments using animals that are all around us.

Why the climate theme? Well, if we can't stop the rising sea levels, coastal flooding is coming, like it or not. To ignore our possible future because it's scary is just stupid. I talked to scientists, ran the simulations, and made some educated guesses. Let's just say: The setting is as realistic as it needs to be for erotica.

Why a big novel instead of a bunch of shorts? This book builds an entire erotic world. Now that it's made, I can write all kinds of shorts, novellas, and specials in the Splice universe. This is the platform for all sorts ofgreat short erotica in the future. To get notified when I release something new, sign up at and join the Wolfpack.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me so far! You make it all worthwhile.

Love,

Billi Wolf

If you enjoy the story, you can buy the entire Splice: Conditioning novel on Smashwords.

---

Chapter 2

No Megacity existed without a seedy underbelly. Someone had to make bribes, and someone had to take bribes. And when the cops looked the other way, there needed to be places where drugs could be dealt, loan sharks could... shark loans, and organized crime could do whatever the hell they liked.

In Fort Miami, that underbelly was called The Disco Quarter. It was the home of all of the best raves, clubs, and designer carnal experiences that the city had to offer. With the rise of pleasure Splices, legal prostitution could be found anywhere in the city. However, only in the Disco Quarter could one pair their particular kinks with illegal (and sometimes dangerous or deadly) chemical and electro-neural highs. For many, it was enough to forget the flat, claustrophobic temperament of the city. At least for a few days.

The usual suspects profited from the illicit activities: Gangs, the mafia, and a selection of business magnates willing to look the other way in order to pad their coffers. The club managers made a better living than the chemists and engineers, who made a better living than the employees. Destitute humans who sold themselves into indentured service and low end Splices were at the bottom of the food chain; they were more like corporate property than actual beings.

And then there was Mikey.

A shithole can be fertile ground for the right kind of talent. Michael Anthony Riley, known to most as simple 'Mikey', was Fort Miami's hottest DJ. A glance at his social media would tell you a lot about the kid: 19 years old, nerdy technophile, bubbly, blonde, and super gay. He had hundreds of thousands of followers, and loved chatting with just about any one of them, thank you very much!

But when you got this five foot, seven inch self proclaimed fag (who couldn't be more than 110 pounds when he was soaking wet) behind a laptop and a synth deck... an amazing transformation took place.

Simply put, Mikey was a beast of a DJ. Song selection, technique, passion, crowd and mood reading, concentration, and bleeding edge technical skills were all wrapped up in that tiny package. He was signed to the most powerful talent agency in the Megacity, Six Star Productions. Six Star was in turn owned by the Russian mob. There was a five month waiting list if you wanted Mikey for a club date, and over ten months if you wanted him for a multi-day event.

In short: Mikey was an asset worth protecting.

If one was to look back at photos of Mikey from the last nine months, each and every one would contain the same brooding Splice standing in the background. No matter how inconspicuous he was trained to be, it's difficult to hide six feet and nine inches of German Shepherd bodyguard. Particularly when the Splice in question insisted on being within arm's reach of Mikey at all times.

Kaleb was simply impressive, in terms of discipline and physique. The canine walked a fine line between muscle and flexibility, staying right around 205 pounds. He was an undefeated Light Heavyweight MMA fighter in the Splice leagues, but his career was cut short last year. Accusations of fight fixing by his camp tainted every fighter that they managed. The German Shepherd was quietly sold to Six Star, and he had been babysitting Mikey ever since.

Tonight the unlikely pair was working a particularly seedy venue. To be honest, it was more of a glorified drug den. But the owners paid well and neither Mikey nor Kaleb had any say in the matter. The Splice was in full danger gear, consisting of a bulletproof vest, rugged cargo shorts, anthro modified combat boots, and wrap-around polarized sunglasses. The noise cancellation devices in Kaleb's ears were fed data directly from his protectee's laptop. While the rest of the club was hearing mad beats, the canine was hearing the sounds of the rest of the club.

Meanwhile, Mikey was doing his thing. The crowd was divided into many factions, but there were two main cliques: The white supremacists, and the associates of the Cuban cartel. So far the kid was weaving his own mix of regional favorites with popular Ibiza anthems, and everyone was happy enough. It helped that so many people were there to get high of course, and didn't give a shit what he played.

However, protector and protectee were both periodically distracted tonight. Just to the left of the stage, the flesh merchants were conducting their trade. Unfortunate humans and Splices were paraded in front of potential Johns. They wore next to nothing, or in some cases nothing at all. That much was normal, and though Mikey was opposed, he and Kaleb were hardened against the emotional impact of the rough trade.

The issue tonight was that many of the prostitutes were being slapped around. Many of the males were openly punched, or even worse. The primary culprits were the white supremacists, who saw these unfortunates as conduits for their violence, living proof that they were at the top of the food chain. Kaleb kept an extra close eye on the nearby flesh parade. It wasn't like these particular thugs were friends of the LGBT community, and Mikey was very, very out of the closet.

Mikey on the other hand seemed absorbed in his set. The German Shepherd was actually proud of his human's self control tonight. There were no outbursts, no snide asides about the particularly deviant crowd. Other than the occasional wary glance down and to the left, Mikey seemed immune to brutality and dehumanization happening just a few meters away. They only had about an hour to go in this set, and they could get the hell out of this cesspool.

But when the human replaced the next song in his set with a track called 'Nazi Skinheads Must All Fucking Die', circumstances changed.

Because of the noise cancellation, Kaleb was the last to know the reason for the riot. But the Splice was absolutely the first to react to the sudden anger directed towards the stage. He had seen unruly mobs before, the way their collective attention became focused on one individual. So before the first hurled beer bottle was arcing towards Mikey's head, the Splice was already in action. He dove at his protectee, taking him out at the knees so that the electronics would provide a temporary shield.

Some of the Cubans in the crowd seemed to take the song's advice quite literally. Isolated packs of supremacists were mobbed by the Hispanics. Those who wanted nothing to do with the fighting fled for the doors. Anyone tucked away in isolated corners was left alone for the most part, and they rode out the fight in their own particular drug hazed reality.

Still, a significant percentage of the crowd was now rushing the stage. There was no time for conversation or admonishment. With an angry look that brooked no argument, Kaleb poked his human in the chest, and jerked his head towards one of the back doors. The little DJ was scrambling away before the Shepherd rose to his footpaws.

Sometimes, a bodyguard's job was to be an escort, leading his protectee down the right path and avoiding danger. Sometimes a bodyguard had to put down a threat at a distance before power could be exerted over his protectee.

But every once in a while, when the odds were particularly bad, a bodyguard had to be a brick wall.

Kaleb was a very good wall.

The canine mentally divided the charging skinheads into engagement groups. There would be three on top of him in seconds. Then a group of five. And then if he wasn't halfway out the door, he was dead.

Fair enough.

The first idiot was unarmed, but he was an opportunity to reposition closer to the door. The Splice started to roll backward while ducking a wild haymaker, and in the process tucked his boot into his assailant's gut. It was a perfect Tomoe Nage, propelling the skinhead across the room a good six meters.

Kaleb was back on his feet in a split second. Just in time to face the other two attackers closest to him. They both had collapsible batons, already swinging. He knew that he couldn't dodge both. Rather than stepping back, the canine stepped in so that the club would hit him before it could gain too much momentum. He took a punishing bruise to the forearm. The return headbutt shattered his attacker's nose. Before the third attacker could recover from his wild swing, the Splice launched a sidekick into his hip. The skinhead spun and tumbled over the railing of the main stage.

It should be noted that oxygen is the fuel of a warrior. When and how you breath is drilled into a martial artist from day one. They tell you to breathe into your gut, let the air fill your lungs, and when you attack let the air out with a sharp kiai!

The German Shepherd hadn't drawn a breath since he first knocked Mikey to the floor.

There's a dangerous flip side to proper breathing. Fool your body into thinking that it's drowning so that it gets flooded with adrenaline. Control that rush and trick your mind into thinking that time is slowing down around you. The trick is called Lentation, and it can be fatal even to genetically engineered Splices.

Kaleb knew he had around thirty seconds to make it to the door. Five incoming. The two in the back sported laser-sighted pistols. His mental clock started to count down.

A shattered vodka bottle sliced its way towards the Shepherd's face in slow motion. He dropped slightly to one side and twisted, pulling the skinhead down in an ugly but effective arm drag. It meant temporary cover from the weaving laser sights, and it put the canine another meter closer to the door. As they rolled, a soccer kick whistled in from another attacker. The bodyguard took it on the hip, using the momentum to roll a bit more. Almost there.

A quick kip-up put the dog back on his feet. His lungs burned and his mind was swimming. Flashes of white sparked at the edge of his vision, having absolutely nothing to do with the polarization of his wrap-around sunglasses. He had some distance, and his melee pursuers were giving him cover from the gunmen.

Time to run.

The sound of gunfire echoed behind him, drowning out even the internal thundering of Kaleb's strained heart. He was through the door now, cutting the corner perfectly as he vaulted into the club's rear driveway. The Splice's lungs were on fire. He couldn't smell anything, even though people were all around him, fleeing into the street. He just needed to get to the street. Just a few more st-

Body taxed to its limit, the German Shepherd drew a breath.

Time came crashing in on the canine, and with it all of the dull aches and strained muscles earned in the last couple of minutes. He coughed, tasting that metallic tang of blood, even as he scrambled desperately on all fours to gain a little more distance in his weakened state. The first two thugs emerged from the club, closing on the canine easily.

Until, of course, they were mowed down by three tons of limousine.

Mikey lunged over to open the front passenger side door. He yelled, "Get in!"

The Shepherd managed to dive into the limo and get the door closed behind him. And Mikey managed not to run down anyone else. Given the insane taxes on cars within the borders of any grid-city, there was very little traffic, particularly at this hour.

Not a word was spoken between human and Splice for the entire ride to the hotel.

---

As soon as the hotel room's door closed behind them, a deep, angry growl could be heard echoing through every corner of the foyer. Kaleb couldn't even look at his human, preferring instead to scream at the mirror.

"What in the fucking hell kid?"

"I know. I'm sor-"

"You coulda been killed. We both coulda been killed!"

"I'm sorry Kay, I jus-"

"No, no, fuck your 'sorry' bullshit! My job is hard enough without yer tantrums and social justice warrior crap!"

"K-kay, please I'm trying to..."

The German Shepherd stiffened. The kid was crying. Shit. He clenched his paws into fists and then released them, over and over. In his mind, he was pumping the anger out of his body. It half worked.

"Never again, do you fucking understand me Mikey?"

Silence.

The Splice tried again. "I said never again. Do you get what I-"

"Kay, I stole two hundred thousand dollars."

The canine spun to face his human. They stared at each other, one in open-mawed disbelief, the other in teary-eyed fear.

"Mikey... from who? Oh shit kid you're not tellin' me... from the mob? From the fucking Russian mafia?"

Mikey bit his bottom lip. He nodded slowly.

"Okay. Okay. Well you gotta give it back. Transfer it back before anyone notices. You do that hacking shit right? Just put it back before the accountants catch on, right?"

The human slowly shook his head. The Splice found himself shaking his head in time. "No? Why? What the fuck is-"

"I bought out your contract from Six Star, Kay. I... we can't go back."

The news hit the canine like a ton of bricks. He slowly padded over to the bed and sat down, nearly trapping his tail under his own rump, distracted as he was.

Mikey watched this reaction. He murmured, "You said you loved me."

"I do love you." was Kaleb's immediate and heartfelt reply.

For the first time all night, Mikey smiled. "Good... good."

The pieces all started to fall into place for the canine. "That's why we came to this hotel. The one we were supposed to go to was booked by Six Star."

The human nodded. He sat next to his Splice. The size difference was even more evident when they were hip to hip.

"And that's why ya started shit at the club tonight? I knew that the slavery shit was getting to you, but besides that?"

Mikey murmured, "No luggage, no gear... so no bugs or trackers. I swept the limo before I started my set. Heck, they might even think one or both of us didn't make it out of there alive."

"Shit, the earpieces..."

"No, those were mine. It's alright."

Kaleb absently wiped the tears from Mikey's emerald green eyes with the back of a paw. The human leaned into the touch, clutching that muscled forearm tightly with both of his skinny arms.

The bodyguard looked down at his protectee. "How much you got left? Enough to run?"

The human murmured, "After your contract, a couple bribes for new ID's, two backpacks with essentials that I have checked down at concierge... sixty-seven grand."

Kaleb grunted. Without another word, he stood and started to strip down. When Mikey didn't follow suit quickly enough, he gestured impatiently.

"What, right now? Is that a good idea?" the protectee asked his bodyguard in disbelief.

His own clothing and gear already off, the German Shepherd hauled the human to his feet and started to strip Mikey with brutal efficiency. "You nearly got me killed. You owe me."

The twink flushed and bit his lip, not really stopping his protector from tugging every stitch of clothing off of his slim body. "S-shouldn't we rest though, we have to leave pretty early..."

"Fuck rest."

The human stammered, "M-maybe you need the thing, Kay? T-to calm down some?"

The only reply he got was a low, guttural snarl.

Unsure what the non-verbal response meant, Mikey started to invoke the Conditioning phrase, "Custodio geleider - mmmff!"

A big paw was clamped over the small human's mouth. The canine growled, "Does it look like I need to calm down?"

Mikey's entire body shook. He knew that Splices shouldn't be able to refuse the Conditioning, but this wasn't the first time Kaleb did so. His eyes made their way down the dog morph's form until his gaze fixated on a feature of interest. The canine's swollen red rocket was already drizzling slick precum all over his human's belly. The lad blushed and finally shook his head in silent answer to the question.

"That's a good bitch." the alpha dog murmured, sliding his paw from Mikey's mouth so that he could instead entwine his digits with the human's blonde locks. Kaleb smelled his human's capitulation, and he reveled in the little victory. He tugged his lover's head back and craned his neck down to share a very canine kiss.

The young man opened his mouth to accept the Splice's questing tongue, suckling gently on the broad, flat muscle. His own arousal started to grow, rubbing through the warm fur of his lover's leg. He was fairly average for a human, but anything would seem small compared to that eleven inches of canine spike grinding lewdly against the lad's tummy. He whimpered and wrapped one of his arms around the Shepherd's flanks, feeling the muscles bunch and twitch with every shameless frotting thrust.

Kaleb used the bulk of his body to herd Mikey onto the bed, quickly crawling atop his human so as to maintain their feral kissing. He felt the lad's free hand reach between them, shaking as it touched his canine spire and gently stroked a few times.

The German Shepherd broke their prolonged kiss and hunched playfully into Mikey's grip, making the lad flush all the more. When the twink's now-messy hand withdrew, Kaleb reached down and effortlessly lifted one of his lover's legs. With the human's heel perched atop his fuzzy bodyguard's shoulder, Mikey could slide a couple of precum soaked fingers into his tight little asshole. The dog loved watching the lad prepare himself: The blushing, the lip biting, the little squeals as he finger fucked himself using the canine's copious natural juices.

Mikey's hand slid from between his spread legs and instead moved to grip his own needy arousal. His canine companion took that to mean he was ready. He manhandled the lad onto his belly, letting him tripod with both knees and the hand that wasn't jacking on that six inches of human boner. He mounted up over his bitch, the German Shepherd's larger frame leaving his lover in shadow. As the narrow tip of his dripping dog cock started to grind into Mikey's tight little pucker, Kaleb snarled, "I love you kid."

"I love - ungh! You too... s-sir." the human gasped, as he felt his lover's fevered spike start to slide into his helpless body.

The first four inches were the easiest, as a Splice's canine member tapers towards the tip. But the next seven inches always took a few minutes. He cried out, a little girlishly, as his partner worked that thick, veiny tool into his guts. The constant drizzle of slick precum helped the process along. Mikey's stretched little hole was shining and dripping with excess canine juices. The bumping and sliding of doggy dick over the lad's prostate kept the human rock hard during the 'fitting' process. Splice body temperature was higher than that of a human, so the lad knew exactly how much of that hot, throbbing tool was lodged between his lewdly spread asscheeks.

When Kaleb bottomed out, Mikey could swear that he felt his belly bulge, but he didn't have a spare hand to reach down and see if that was really happening. He whimpered and moaned when the canine started to draw his hips back, only to piston forward in a long, smooth thrust. Once the human was stretched, the foreplay was over.

The Shepherd's body rocked and his flanks rippled as he delivered rough mating thrusts to the little human beneath him. Mikey was reduced to screaming into a hotel pillow, as his love button was rubbed and compressed by the Splice's fucking. The Shep loved how that hole effortlessly squeezed and milked his shaft, stretched right to the edge of what the twink could manage.

The dog's tail started to stiffen. He snarled, "Close to breeding you, boy."

The twink's ears turned cherry red. Though he was embarrassed, Mikey was grateful for the warning. He curled his toes to entwine with the bedsheets and his free arm clung to the overstuffed pillow for dear life.

The canine slid into his bitch fully one more time, his bunched canine sheath kissing up against that beautifully stretched asshole. Then the German Shepherd rained his passion down on Mikey with short, staccato thrusts. The canine's knot started to swell inside of his little human, every one inch thrust pumping blood to the tight ball of flesh that would lock him inside his lover. He panted happily, allowing his animal nature to take over as he hunched into that tight little ass like a living sewing machine.

Mikey felt his canine lover start to swell inside of him. The constant pressure of the ballooning knot against his prostate was more than enough to push the little human over the edge. He squealed brokenly into the captive pillow, and humped gently into his own clenched fist. A particularly sharp thrust from the German Shepherd crystallized the moment: He felt that giant doggy cock planted deep in his bowels, and the baseball-sized knot tugging at his sphincter, both throbbing lewdly in time with the canine's galloping heartbeat. The lad squeezed his eyes shut and squirted his seed all over the pristine hotel bed sheets.

Kaleb felt his lover's hole squeeze tightly at the base of his knot, trapping the dog's shaft. He howled breathlessly. Each constrained thrust pounded the spent lad down, until he was flattened against the bed and lying in a pool of his own semen. The Splice ground his hips down into that bubble-butt lewdly, relishing every rub and tug on his canid knot. Finally the warmth and the tightness were too much for Kaleb. His balls drew up against his body within the confines of that warm, velvety soft sac. The Shepherd twitched and sprayed into his bitch, seeding Mikey in a twin display of dominance and love.

The canine rolled them onto their sides before reaching down to take Mikey's hands. He would continue to cum into his lover for the next few minutes as his knot slowly shrunk. Kaleb half-jokingly referred to this as 'forced cuddle time'. Truth be told, both of them enjoyed the peace and euphoria of a prolonged afterglow.

The Splice murmured, "So where are we goin' in the morning?"

"Alarm is set for six. We get a small boat up the coast, and then a bus inland."

"Oh yeah? What's there?"

Mikey pressed his back and rump into the warm body of his canine lover. "There's a lady, used to live in Fort Miami apparently. She's looking for help establishing some farmland. A friend of hers is a fan of mine, I read about her offer on my message boards. I thought that the middle of nowhere would be a good place to lay low for a while."

Kaleb snorted. "You? A farmer?"

"No. Me: An electrician, handyman, and technologist. You get to be the farmer... and maybe the brute squad."

The canine grumbled. "Fine. Just until we know we aren't being followed and we can figure something out long term."

The human giggled. "You're going to look so cute in overalls, Kay!"

Kaleb just sighed.

If you enjoy the story, you can buy the entire Splice: Conditioning novel on Smashwords.