Duke - Book 1: Alpha Rising (Chapter 1 of 8)
An erotic drama, with laughter and tears, his story will touch you, and have you touching yourself.
Two worlds collide as Duke has to tell his boyfriend Mike his secret, that not only can he change into a black German Shepherd, but also that the Irish Setter he brought home from his family vacation is actually his lover Rourke.
Rourke, a 'purist', his primitive people brutalized him for being gay. By becoming his 'Alpha', Duke rescued him, but to remain an 'Alpha' Duke has to lead a pack. The machinations of the 'purists' not only lead Duke to gather a pack, but also to take action that will have far-reaching ramifications.
For Duke to tell Mike his secret, they have to mate. Their love on the line, the real threat comes from within, as another competes for Duke's affection.
Animal experimentation, a knife-wielding homophobe, a local whore, and an ailing grandparent who has to pass along his gift of 'change' add to his troubles, but a hundred year old tortoise with a secret comes to his aide.
Love it or hate it, I'd appreciate your comments!
(Story begins here: http://www.sofurry.com/page/283568)
** DUKE**
Book 1: Alpha Rising
by scavola
_____
CHAPTER 1
We headed out in Mom's hatchback sedan, which stank like baby, baby powder, baby food, and baby un-food, but had a baby seat, baby toys, and baby DVDs. 'A, B, C, bark with me' played, his favorite song, go figure. I had my headphones on, listening to pop and techno for most of the four-hour drive.
The retreat, a campground, open acreage with lean-to shelters, was a place where we could gather and be ourselves securely, with no chance of being observed by the general public. No sign, gate, or visible fence marked the site, instead it was secured with a network of state of the art technology, video, audio, thermal, and motion detectors, that we called 'the grid'.
We pulled up on the crunchy gravel to a cluster of log cabins. Inside, we all undressed, Mom put on Scout's collar, I put on mine, and we all changed. We headed out the back door, on all fours the rest of the way. In the clearing, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins, all canines in various states, surrounded us. A loud, chatty, pawsy bunch, I slipped to the rear of the group.
Dad stretched up tall on his hind legs, Grandpa and Grandma on his side were the same, so I did too. Grandma was a Collie, with long, flowing hair, black on white on tan. We guys were black German Shepherds, almost identical, my body leaner, Dad's thicker, softer, and Grandpa's thicker but solid and strong, with just a touch of gray on his chin and sheath.
Mom wouldn't attempt to unchange unless she had a mirror to tidy her hair. Grandpa and Grandma on her side, and Mom and Scout, were traditional German Shepherds, black on tan. Grandpa had trouble changing; he and Grandma stayed changed and on all fours, she chose to. They communicated in sniffs, nuzzling, and licks, while Scout took advantage of Mom's exposed teats.
Soon they were asking about me so I came forward and they started pawing me. To have an aunt call me handsome was odd, considering I didn't look like me, the real me, which led to the dreaded 'I bet the bitches chase you' and 'how many girlfriends do you have?' I've known these people my whole life but always found myself reminding them that I'm gay and Mike and I have been together for fifteen years. Dad saved me, giving me the nod.
I trotted off to a respectable distance and then, on all fours, flat-out ran. This is why I liked coming here, eight hundred acres to run. In various states, dogs, horses, a few cats, big and small, bears, deer, moose, the token cows, and, as part of the exchange program, kangaroos, all cheered me on as I tore by, which lasted a good ten minutes or so before I got winded.
Now I had to find something to keep me occupied the rest of the week, or someone. I shared another 'our place' here, and found the one I shared it with waiting for me. Through the dense trees and shrubs, I snuck up on him.
He wore a natural twine collar, but unchanged, was nude, big and strong, thick, with a chunky ass, chunky but dimpled. What did it for me was the copper hair, flowing down to his waist, and the freckles, spreading from his arms, across his shoulders, and tapering down his back in a 'V'.
He turned around. Freckles covered his face and chest, hair started just under his large nipples, made a thin line down his belly, and crowned his cock. Under the hair and freckles, he was a good-looking guy with pleasant features and gleaming amber eyes.
He smiled, his long canines hooking his lower lip. "I smell Duke." His hand moved to his crotch, not to cover himself. "Duke smell like flowers," he said sniffing, probably my cologne.
I unchanged and stepped in to the clearing. "Rourke smells . . ." Well, he smelled like the underside of a rotting log. "Manly," I said, and we hugged, holding each other tight. "If your family catches you like this . . ."
"They kill me."
His family is what we called 'purist'. While we lived in the 'outside' world and visited the retreat once a year, they lived at the retreat and visited the 'outside' world rarely, if at all. While we didn't change often, to keep it from the general public, they stayed changed, unacceptable for them not to be. They also didn't use technology and had no contact with the outside world except for us 'tourists', which also explained his broken English.
"I miss you," he said, grinding against me.
I backed away. "That can't happen again." Last year he tried to rape me.
"You say yes." His cock, growing hard, was still lost under a draping foreskin.
"I say no." I stepped away as he came closer, grinning. "I say no!"
"I say yes," he whined. Frustrated, he dropped to the ground, flat on his back, grabbing his big dirty feet, ass in the air.
He was gaped open and bleeding. Changing, I got down on all fours and sniffed his wounds. The cuts and abrasions I licked clean, a humane thing to do.
"Why do you let them do this to you?" I asked, kneeling, unchanged.
He sat up. "No," he said, pointing to both of us, "say yes."
He bowed his head in shame. Persecuted for being gay, brutalized emotionally and physically, this simple creature, this beautiful man, almost twenty-one years old, had nothing but horse cock up his ass. As he started to cry, I sat next to him, holding him.
"Rourke," I said quietly, "you are good, you are good . . ." I held him and consoled him as long as he needed me to.
_____
Emotional wounds bandaged, I set out on all fours for the only doctor I trusted to handle this. I found him in the field, mounting his wife, and quickly shied away.
"Hey Duke," he called, in a slow, deep voice.
"I'm sorry," I said, stretching up tall on my hind legs.
"It's okay son." I heard a wet smack as he pulled out.
His wife sighed. "He's been at it for hours." Cows mated slowly.
Both Holsteins, they were big and chunky, that word again, white with black spots. Ears poking out of the sides of their heads, they had sleepy eyes and bulbous snouts, his black, hers pink. He chewed a strand of hay while she picked some out of her long hair.
"I need a good grooming after that roll in the hay." She wiped the dirt off her knees, her udders jiggling.
"I'll be along in a bit," he said.
"Take your time," she said, chuckling, "you always do."
He watched her saunter off, tail swaying, his thin, pink two-footer retracting back in to his sheath. "What can I do for you?"
I tried to find the right words. "I have a friend who . . . copulated with a horse."
"And he's canine?" he asked, I nodded. "I better grab my bag."
"He's a purist," I said hesitantly.
"How bad is he?" He knew I was going to be a vet.
"I cleaned the wounds, bruises and abrasions, rectal lacerations, but internal bleeding, most likely tears in the anal lining."
"You're sure?" I nodded again. "Wait here." He lumbered off as fast as his short, disjointed legs would allow, head shaking, tail flicking sharply, mootering to himself.
_____
His medical kit hanging from his shoulder by a long strap, we hurried to the clearing, 'our place', to find Rourke gone. The doctor assured me I did the right thing but ordered me back to my family. He'd handle the situation; he did take an oath and meant to uphold it.
_____
On my way back to our shelter, I came across a Siberian Husky, walking tall on her hind legs, followed by a dozen or so assorted dogs on all fours. As she approached, one sniff confirmed why, she was in heat. She was my size, but thicker in the neck and haunches, her soft coat a marbled black on white.
"Hey Duke," she called. "Can you believe this?" She joined me, her entourage in tow.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself."
"What's not to love," she said, turning back to the group demurely, "besides, I never get this much attention in the 'outside' world." She was beautiful as a Siberian Husky, but somewhat plain as a girl.
One of her suitors got close, growling.
"We're just talking here," I said, to a large Golden Retriever, his teeth bared.
"You still have a boyfriend?" she asked, I nodded. "I wish he could come, I'd love to meet him. Maybe we can get together . . ." She jolted, from a nose between her legs. "Back off, Steve," she said, smoothing her tail down.
"Where's Andrei?" I asked, her brother.
"Staying far away from me," she said, chuckling, "I think he's at the bluff."
A paw swiped my tail; I dashed ahead a bit. Steve, the Golden Retriever, stretched up tall on his hind legs, his slick red dick fully extended from his sheath. He charged forward a few steps, putting himself between Anna and me.
"Stop it, Steve," Anna said, batting him with her paw.
"I'd probably better go," I said, backing off.
"Unless you want to fight for me," she said, Steve growled.
I took off before he jumped me.
_____
At the edge of the woods was an outcropping of rock, one large flat slab a few feet higher than the rest. I found Andrei there, identical to his sister but bigger. He sat hunched over, paws covering his lap, occasionally lapping at a bowl between his legs.
I made it a point to announce myself, shuffling my feet, pawing at branches, and kicking pebbles, but he didn't seem to notice. Joining him, I squatted off to one side. Andrei lapped at the bowl, which I could tell by its fumes wasn't water.
He looked up with puffy, red eyes. "Hey Duke," he said, a deep slurred voice, "Want some? Good stuff, my grandpa makes it himself back in Russia."
I could use a drink and he could use the company. "Sure," I said, and leaning over, lapped the vodka, surprisingly smooth. "That is good."
"Potatoes, has to be made from potatoes."
"Are you okay?" I asked, drinking more.
"You know what my problem is?" He rubbed his eyes with a paw and I saw what his problem was, what he'd been covering in his lap, and it was no little problem. "She's my sister man, my sister."
"I met her on the way here."
"She's in heat." He leaned to the bowl, drinking.
"I could tell," I said, chuckling, "about every guy was after her."
"She's my sister man," he said, almost a whimper.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean anything by it." He lapped some more, as I guess he had been for some time. I put two and two together. "It must be rough."
"You got a sister?" I shook my head. "A mother?" he asked, I nodded.
"I'm not affected."
"You're gay," he said, a statement, not a question. "Good idea." He grabbed the bowl and scooted next to me, throwing a paw around my shoulders. "Tonight, I'm gay," he exclaimed, toasting with the bowl, and then drinking deep. "Drink," he said, shoving the bowl in my face.
I could think of worse problems then getting corralled as a drinking buddy by a hunky, horny husky. We drank as he told of his woe, which I could see, for a straight guy to have a sister in heat, would be a problem, the smell indiscriminate, the reaction involuntary. I felt sorry for him, even more so as I got drunk, and couldn't help but give him a hand or, well, a paw. He was quick to cum.
"Thank you Duke," he said, now leaning on me, "you're a good friend."
"No Andrei, thank you." Thick as my wrist, but not very long, his dick dribbled. "For the vodka," I added.
*****
Early the next morning, Dad was summoned, Grandpa went with him, but I wasn't allowed. I waited in our shelter, large enough for the entire extended family, our pack, about a dozen of us. No good to anybody right now, anxious and a little hung over, Mom had me in the kitchen mindlessly shredding meats and vegetables. Yelping, I accidentally shredded myself when I heard Dad's voice. I licked my paw as I hurried to the living area.
Dad and Grandpa took me for a walk.
"The doctor and his wife have been asked to leave," Dad said. He told me how the doctor stormed off to the purist compound and, after trying to be accommodating, demanded to see Rourke. The situation escalated, the doctor circled by purists, growling, snarling, and baring their teeth, so Rourke came forward. Against their command, he left with the doctor to get treatment. "The council convened and passed judgment, no trial."
"But how could they, it's not fair!"
"They were waiting for an excuse," Grandpa muttered, "I'm sure we'll have steak on the grill tonight." Grandpa shook his head in disgust.
"What about Rourke?"
"He'll be fine," Dad said. He put his paws on my shoulders. "You saved his life."
"Whatever good that did," Grandpa muttered, "he's been asked to leave too."
"No fucking way! He won't last a minute 'outside'!"
Dad held me sternly, looking me in the eyes. "Would you rather he stay here, with how they treat him?"
It would only get worse when we 'tourists' left. Next year I'd come back to find him dead, but for those three-hundred and sixty-five days in between, they'd make an example of him, torturing him. I fell in to Dad's arms, burying my muzzle in his shoulder.
Grandpa pawed my back. "Don't worry," he said, chuckling, "he's got someone to look out for him."
_____
I went right to the medical unit, a white 'M.A.S.H.' tent. All the people, unchanged to handle the implements and equipment, scared Rourke. Almost having died and having had surgery scared Rourke. Having turned his back on his people and then asked to leave, scared Rourke. They had to strap him to the bed and sedate him.
I was there when he woke, at the side of the gurney, a paw to his chest.
"Duke," he murmured. Restrained, he tried to move. I pulled the Velcro strap.
"Want to get out of here, go to our place?"
"Our place," he said, smiling.
I helped him up; he was a lot heavier than he looked. He leaned on me those first few steps until we got outside. At the glares from the others we came across, he panicked, tried to change, and bellowed in pain.
"It's okay," I said.
"No kill?" he asked, shaking.
"Trust me." I helped him take a few more steps.
"Trust Duke." He smiled, his fangs hooking his lower lip.
_____
In my coat, the cold was bearable, but Rourke was still too weak to change. We sat in the sun, trees blocking the breeze, me in his lap as he wrapped himself around me for warmth.
"We need to talk."
"Duke, thank you." His head over my shoulder; we were cheek to cheek.
"Don't thank me yet big guy." Having him over me, covering me, must be what Mike felt. "You know what happened?"
"Doctor Cow helped me hurt."
"You were asked to leave." He sighed. "You don't have to leave yet." His chest fluttered as he sobbed. "It's going to be okay."
"Outside," he whined, guttural, turning in to a wail.
All he'd ever known, behind him. Before him, all the horror stories of the outside world, stories even I told him. As he pulled away, to keep him from bolting I pawed at him, but ended up tripping him. We tumbled, him on his back, wailing and struggling, me on top, trying to hold him down.
"You're coming with me!"
His wailing and struggling stopped short. "With Duke?" he asked.
"Yes, with Duke."
He squeezed me tight, until both of us said 'ouch', me from him squeezing too hard, him from his injuries.
"Duke, thank you." He planted my muzzle with kisses.
"Don't thank me yet big guy." I sat up on him, awkwardly, and then scooted lower to his thighs. "There's a catch. You know I have a boyfriend?"
"Mike," he said, growling playfully.
"He doesn't know about us." He yawned, frowning. "You'll have to stay changed until I . . . tell him."
"You tell Mike?" His sleepy eyes went wide. For us, to tell an 'outsider', pretty much I'd be asking Mike to marry me.
"Yes, I'm going to tell Mike, so can you be nice to Mike?"
"Yes, nice to Mike." He yawned. "I love Duke, Duke love Mike, I love Mike."
I had to get him back before he fell asleep on me.
_____
With so much on my mind, I shut it off, content to enjoy the rest of the day as a dog. Well, I trotted along at a good pace with my tongue lolled out, but still tall on my hind legs. It must have looked crazy as I did what dogs do, heading after anything catching my interest, the flutter of a bird, a whiff of food; I even chased a cat up a tree, which I'm sure he didn't appreciate. It all came so naturally, involuntarily, that I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going until . . .
I dropped to all fours and bolted, way too close to the purist's part of the retreat, and didn't stop until clear of the area. I hid in a large, wooden building that I soon realized, sniffing, was the stable, built near the purists because the equine tourists didn't care to muck their own stalls; they arranged for the purists to do the dirty work. This was frowned upon, but they had an understanding with the council, which worked well for all.
I dropped into the shadows as horses approached. The silhouettes of their bodies diminished to somewhere between the size of a horse and a man as they stretched up tall on their hind legs. One backed in to the stall I was in, squatting on his thick haunches, gathering his tail out of the way.
"Where's Chuck?" he asked.
"Probably off somewhere crying," a wheezy voice replied.
"You think he'd be happy," he said, opening, letting loose, "we found him," and again, "a boyfriend."
"He broke his toy," the wheezy voice said, chuckling, "guess we'll have to find him a new one."
"That's being arranged." After flooding the hay with urine, he left the stall, tail swaying. "Ready to parrrr-tay," he hollered, pumping his hooves in the air.
They lit up and I smelled the acrid smoke. I don't know how a horse would smoke a joint, but with a steaming pile of shit in my face and my paws getting wet, I wasn't about to stick around and find out. Hiding in the shadows, I slipped outside.
As I headed back to the shelter, it made sense. As I said, the equine tourists had a relationship with the purists. I'm sure these guys got special treatment, and who knows what else, each time this 'Chuck' raped Rourke.
_____
Andrei was waiting for me. As I approached on all fours, he tapped his hip for me to follow and led me to the back of the shelter. I stretched up tall on my hind legs but he was still almost a foot taller. I was glad his eyes weren't red, but their typical pale blue, as he glared at me.
"I don't remember much about last night other than getting drunk and you jerking me off." I didn't know quite how to take that. "You still have a boyfriend?" he asked, brow furrowing. I nodded. "Good," he said, sighing. "It's just, I'm not gay, and I didn't want you to . . ." He struggled to finish the thought, but I knew where this was going . . . didn't want you to get the wrong idea, to tell anybody, etc.
"I'm just glad I could be there for you when you needed a friend."
He grabbed me in a strong hug, lifting me off the ground. "Thank you." He patted my back and then headed off. "By the way," he called, "you give good paw."
"Anytime," I called back.
*****
I visited Rourke the next day, taking him to 'our place', but this time brought blankets. We sat together as before, only, warm enough, I unchanged too. Wrapped up tight, I told him how Mike and I rented a house at school. Gone during the day and home at night, he could only unchange when he was alone.
It had to be that way for now, too hard to explain otherwise. He was uneducated and, I hate to say it, uncouth; he would have to learn how to act, how to behave. He didn't fit in here because he wanted to stay unchanged, but to be in the outside world, he'd have to stay changed.
I hadn't thought about how I'd tell Mike. Because of the annual trips he wasn't allowed to come on, that we never talked about, never brought back souvenirs, or even took pictures, he speculated that we were nudists, closet Amish, or secretly belonged to the Michigan Militia, as we were Michiganders; I think that's a word. We agreed that this one week a year would remain a mystery, for both of us, free to do whatever or whoever we wanted to.
I met Rourke last year. He came to this clearing, finally admitting his dual desires, to be alone to cry. He was eager to hear all about living in the outside world and being gay. I'm not going to say we 'horsed' around, that would be inappropriate, but we played around, even fooled around, until he mounted me. I had to change and bite him to get out from under him, and then we fought.
It came down to, as a purist you took a mate, literally. I got it across that I had different beliefs. We parted as friends, but, him being somewhat naïve, I'm sure I gave him the wrong impression. He probably went back to his people, 'came out', and they ripped him to shreds; faint scars still covered his body.
My fault, if we hadn't met, if I wasn't so out and proud, if I had considered his situation, none of this would have happened. I should have advised him better, helped him make a smoother transition, so he would have had love not horse cock.
With the torture behind him, he could heal physically. Inside, he was still hurting. I couldn't just give him platitudes like 'you're a great guy', 'it's okay to be gay', or 'you'll find love'. I couldn't just tell him, he'd have to feel it. To give him hope, I had to do it on his terms. On the fourth day, we sat huddled and wrapped as we always did, but this time I leaned forward and said 'yes'.
He moved eagerly under me, but I pulled away until he understood I was in control. He gathered his foreskin, exposing a thick shaft, already slick. I sat back until I bumped against the soft head, and then settled around it, slowly opening. With a deep breath, I slid down the length. Gripping him, up and down in tight circles, he was quick to cum, in pulsing jets. I sat in his lap, with him still inside me.
"I love you Duke," he said, panting. His large rough hand grabbed me, but stroked gently.
"You can't," I said, gasping. I held myself open to let it flow, cum streaming down his fist.
_____
Through the dense trees and shrubs, we were being watched, by two pairs of glinting amber eyes.
*****
If the medical unit discharged him, Rourke would have to leave, so they agreed not to discharge him until we left. He spent his time watching television and chatting with the doctors, practicing his English. They even found some 'Fun with Dick and Jane' books for him to try to read, though I'm sure he would have preferred 'Fun with Dick and Dick'. I wondered why nobody wrote that, making a mental note.
This being the fifth day of the retreat, 'the games' were starting, a battle for dominance, a series of matches, different sexes, ages, and species. The under twenty-one group fought to first pinned, the over twenty-one group, first to concede, which came close, if not, to death.
As a kid, I participated for fun but now I didn't feel the need to prove myself. Grandpa went on about the political advantages, standings in the games would increase exposure for a seat on the council, but I didn't have an interest in politics. Dad, the reigning champion until he got married, wanted to live vicariously through me. Mom hoped competing would make me straight. 'My son, the dominate male', I pictured her cooing, all the bitches after me, lots of pups.
This year, there was a hitch as I was called to the medical unit. Rourke lay in bed, trying his best to look sick, which wasn't very convincing. Around him stood a doctor and three Irish Setters, an older male, a younger male, and a younger female.
"He's fine," said the older male, growling.
The younger male pawed Rourke in the gut, hard, trying to get a reaction. He got a reaction, the doctor changed, a gray Great Dane, stretching up tall on his hind legs.
"His injuries are internal, I have to keep him here until I'm certain the chance of infection has passed."
"Horse-fucked faggot." The younger female was, go figure, a bitch.
"What's going on?" I pushed past her.
The doctor pulled me aside, towering over me. "His father wants him released so they can run him out of here; he thinks it would make a good 'opening ceremony' for the games." He snarled at them. "They gave up their rights to him, you're his Alpha now."
"No," the older male said, "no dominance, no alpha!"
The doctor turned to me. "You have dominance, don't you?"
"Like when I was ten."
The doctor shook his huge head.
"He has dominance now." Dad ran in with Grandpa at his side. "I signed you up." He pawed my shoulder. "I made it before the cutoff," he said, nodding.
"Thanks?"
"As I was saying, you're not his Alpha anymore." The doctor ripped off his stretched-to-tatters lab coat with a swipe of his large paw. "Now get out of my clinic before I find myself with some new patients."
The older male shoved through Dad and me.
"We fight," the younger male said, snarling, nipping, but I didn't flinch.
"Faggot," the younger female said, brushing past me so I'd catch her scent.
I unchanged, not only because I knew it would offend her, but also to show she got no reaction out of me. On all fours, they barked, running off. Rourke trembling, I went to his side.
"Kill you," he cried, grabbing me to pull him up.
"Just a pin, he'll be fine," Grandpa said, pawing my back.
"I wouldn't be too sure," the doctor muttered.
_____
Waiting on the field with the other male canine fourteen to twenty-one year olds, I bumped in to two cousins on my mother's side, the twins. Chocolate labs, I wasn't sure which aunt and uncle their parents were. Die-hard competitors, they egged me on.
"Get right on 'em, charge 'em, and grab their neck," the one in the blue collar said.
"No, get past 'em and get 'em from the rear," the one in the red collar replied.
"You're sayin' that 'cause he's gay." He bowed up, thumping his brother with his chest.
"No, I'm sayin' it 'cause that's how you do it." He bowed up, thumping back.
"Maybe you're gay," blue collar said.
"Maybe you're gay," red collar replied.
I got called as they started proving their heterosexuality, which, for some reason, appeared to involve 'crumping'. The first round they pitted me against a beagle, seriously, a beagle. The second round was a sheep dog with his hair back in a headband. I swiped the headband and with the headband gone, he was blind. I only needed one more round to substantiate my dominance.
_____
Scheduling two rounds a day gave everyone a chance to participate and 'spectate', I'm not sure that's a word. I took Rourke to 'our place', we sat huddled and covered in blankets. As I conveyed my heroic tales of triumph, embellishing a lot, he couldn't stop hugging and kissing me.
"Damn you're gay," blue collar said.
He and his brother stepped in to the clearing and, seeing us, unchanged. Identical and quite built, the two had cocoa skin. The pups my Aunt adopted, I remembered, now in their teens. Long lashes over deep brown eyes, small tapered noses, and full pink lips, the two were quite cute.
"Man it's cold," red-collar said, shivering.
I peeled off a couple blankets and they joined us with a 'hell no' as red collar tried to sit in blue collar's lap. They settled in side-by-side.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't remember your names."
"Yeah, real hard," blue collar said, pointing to himself then his brother, "Rob and Rod."
"This is Rourke," I said, elbowing him. "Rourke, these are your new cousins."
"Hello cousins." Rourke scooted us over to them, giving each a hug; we ended up in a big pile of blankets. "Duke my Alpha," he said proudly.
"You're an Alpha?" Rod exclaimed, eyes wide.
"Yeah, well, sort of," I said, sighing, "I have to get through one more round tomorrow."
"That's why we're here." Rob nudged Rod. "We got your back."
"Does my back need getting?"
"You're fighting this bad-ass purist. The guys he fought are in the medical unit."
"But it's just a pin."
"Yeah, but this guy's rough, and he's telling everybody he's got a score to settle with you, something about a brother."
Rourke clutched me tight. "Tor kill you," he wailed.
"It's okay Rourke, I'll be fine." I rubbed him under the blankets, soothing him.
"And we got your back," the twins exclaimed.
"See, they've got my back." I kissed him; the twins groaned in disgust.
"Damn you're gay," Rob said, while Rod watched curiously.
"Got room for two more?"
Dad and Grandpa stepped in to the clearing and, seeing us, unchanged. They hurried under the blankets, each holding a twin in their lap, ruffling their wiry, close-cropped heads.
"We just heard," Dad said.
"The situation is turning political," Grandpa said, "the purists are saying you took one of their own to use as a concubine." He nodded to the twins.
"Grandpa," Rod asked, "what's a concubine?"
"Ask your mother," he said, grinning.
"That's totally," I said, looking to the twins, "what the . . ."
"Fuck," Rourke said, happy to finish one of my sentences.
"I can't lie to you son," Dad said, "it's important that you win tomorrow."
"And win in a dignified way," Grandpa said.
"It's important that I win for Rourke!"
"It's important that you win because you care about your family." In Dad's cool stare, I found understanding. A lot more was riding on this.
"It's time we get to dinner." Grandpa and Dad stood, pulling the twins up with them.
"What are we having?" Rob asked.
"Probably steak," Grandpa muttered.
They changed as they left the clearing.
Rourke kissed my cheek. "Our place," he said, chuckling.
"Come on." I stood, pulling him with me.
He wiped his dribble off my back; we changed and headed out. The twins made them wait for us, giving us time for 'gay stuff'. They followed behind, 'getting my back'.
_____
Considering the escalated tension, Dad made me stay in that night, and if he hadn't, I would've been attacked.
*****
The next morning Rourke made me promise to stop by the medical unit early. He leapt out of bed and showed me how his brother fought, his tells and weaknesses. Doctor Dane, unchanged, in a lab coat, gave pointers. The twins scrapped off to the side until they overturned a medical cart and the doctor made them 'sit'.
_____
Let's cut to the fight.
Grandpa thought bringing Rourke would be politically incorrect, so he, as our family's Alpha, made him 'stay'.
With Dad and Grandpa, and followed by Doctor Dane flanked by the twins, I stepped in to the simple dirt arena. The retreat was divided, my side, the 'tourists', well groomed with coifs. Opposite, was Rourke's brother Tor with his family and all the purists, wild hair untamed.
Tor was my height, but not my build, thinner, his body covered in waves of fur. His copper hair was jagged, probably cut by knife, less like a Mohawk and more like a mullet. He had Rourke's amber eyes, only glinting, cruel.
A master of the change, I turned it up a notch, making my features sharper, my body more compact, stronger. I didn't let his growling and snarling get to me, but I didn't offer my paw. Kangaroos stood to either side, putting us in position.
With smaller upper torso and arms, wider lower torso and thighs, and huge feet, their tails bent to the ground for support. Their heads, covered in bucket hats, were smaller on top with ears close together and wider muzzles. Both males, their furry sheaths, balls attached, jutted from their bodies. Avid boxers, they refereed.
"Good on 'ya mates. Let's 'ave a fair go at this 'ere barney. Get pissed and we take you to the loo." I had no idea what they were saying. "Oi!" one yelled, and Tor charged.
As we practiced, his first move was to grab my sides. I let him, grabbing him back. Falling in a controlled roll, I rabbit-kicked, sending him flying. The audience gasped. He scrambled, righting himself, shaking his head.
This time I charged him, with something he wouldn't be familiar with, a football tackle. Again, he went flying, and again, the audience gasped. His dad grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, throwing him back in the arena.
We charged each other, this time, teeth bared. I used it as an intimidation tactic; he sunk his teeth in my throat. I looked to the kangaroos to throw a flag. They were hopping about, trying to see, as we weren't moving too much.
Tor took advantage of the confusion, pulling me to the ground, getting behind me. If he pinned me, he'd win, but that wasn't what he had in mind. I felt a knock at the back door.
"Fuck no!" I managed to get my hands unchanged. With fingers and thumbs, I pinched his snout; he'd have to release me to breathe. He held out as long as he could, battering my clenched sphincter; I'm sure it looked like I was getting fucked.
He broke away, gasping. I clasped my hands and wailed on his back, knocking the wind out of him as he fought to breathe. With him choking, it was easy to grab him and throw him to the ground.
"Duke no!" someone yelled from the crowd as I mounted Tor. Ramming my dick up his ass, my forelegs pinched his guts. I fucked him fast and hard, marking him with my seed. Knotted, I unchanged to pull out. I lumbered over him, naked, as he whimpered.
I don't remember much after that. They hurried me off, blankets covering me. In shock, blubbering, shaking, I had to be sedated.
_____
I woke to a fanged grin in my face. He stood at the side of the gurney, his hand on my chest.
"Want to go our place?" He helped me up and I leaned on him those first few steps until we got outside.
_____
Grandpa grabbed Rob and Rod by the scruffs of their necks. "Where are you two going?"
"We're going with Duke," Rob said, squirming.
"Let's give those two some time for gay stuff," he said.
"How long does that take?" Rod asked.
"Ask you mother," Grandpa said, grinning.
_____
"Duke, what wrong?" He was sad for me as I cried. "I help . . ."
I felt bad as he started to tear up too. "I'm okay," I said, sniffling, "it's okay."
"No okay, Duke cry, why?"
"No, really, I'm okay." I took a deep breath. "What happened after . . .?"
"Duke bad!" He leapt up. "You help me," he said, poking his chest, "I help you." He pointed at me accusingly. I guess he was trying to say I was being a dick.
"Fine, you want to help me?" He nodded. "Then get your ass back down here!"
He scrambled, covering us and holding me tight.
"What wrong?" he asked again, his head over my shoulder.
I stumbled over the words. "What I did . . . to your brother . . . that was my first time like that . . . it was supposed to be special . . . it was angry, mean."
He changed behind me, a little smaller, a lot hairier.
"No Rourke, I can't ask . . ."
He cleared his throat. "Between friends, there is no asking." He crawled in front of me, on his paws and knees. "Rourke hurt, you help, Duke hurt, I help." He turned back to me with a fanged grin. "Rourke say 'yes'."
"I can't, you're injured."
He shook his head. "Duke not horse big." He wagged his tail, thick, wavy, copper hair.
Imagine me not just hairy, but completely covered in short black fur. My canine ears poked out of the top of my head and I had a blunt muzzle. A long thick tail grew as my dick slipped in to a sheath. Rourke looked like a bigger version of his brother Tor but, his long head of hair covered his ears, his eyes gleamed, not glinted, and he had that fanged grin.
I stood on my haunches, leaning over him, carefully cradling his belly with my bent paws. Stabbing about, I found my mark and, tapered and slick, slid right in, working on its own like a piston. I collapsed on to Rourke, enjoying the ride.
A pressure grew at the base of my cock as I swelled and, in kind, plugged his hole. Locked together in that moment, both about to burst, our hearts stopped as a wave of warm static overtook us. He quivered and stumbled as he hosed the dirt.
I exploded inside him, one big ejaculation instead of five or six. Slumping off him, hitting the ground hard, I took him with me in a sharp tug. He unchanged with a deep grunt, adjusting himself over me.
"I love you Duke," he said, gasping.
"You can't," I said, panting.
_____
When we woke, we were covered in blankets.
TO BE CONTINUED
(Chapter 2 http://www.sofurry.com/page/284244)