Tenderness of Wolves

THE TENDERNESS OF WOLVES

The following story contains sex acts between a male teenager and adults and teenagers of all genders where consent can be somewhat ambiguous. While these situations can be really hot in a fantasy, they'd be absolutely dreadful in real life. This story is only a fantasy, and it's not meant to be taken seriously, or to be condoning the idea of forcing people to have sex. If such stories are not legal in your locale, well... you know what you're supposed to do.

There are also some elements that could be triggering for survivors of sexual abuse.

It's a werewolf story. People get killed. Flesh is eaten. If you don't like horror mixed in with your smut, go read Playgirl. If the idea of something primal and savage like a werewolf gets your juices flowing though... Read on. ;)

The Tenderness of Wolves is an awesome musical piece by Coil. This is where the title comes from.

Feedback and encouragement is welcome and appreciated. You can get a hold of me at queer_tribes@yahoo.ca.

Have fun! :)

CHAPTER 11 -- Jules

Jules brushed his lips against the incandescent skin of Chad's shoulder; the werewolf shuddered at the touch. Like the Haitian, this is where the young man had been bitten years ago, almost on the exact same spot on his body. He laid shirtless against Jules, who spoke in a soft voice.

"So it's Cat who bit you."

He knew, because Chad and he had bonded.

"I was in love. There's no way I could refuse the offer."

Jules ran his fingertips along his lover's shaved head. The hair was surprisingly smooth and pleasant to the touch. The native man's dusky smell titillated the boy's nostrils. It was different from Conrad's scent; although Jules had not been near the punk boy since his sense of smell had mutated, he could nonetheless tell the fragrances were different.

"Tell me about it."

Chad chuckled.

"She picked me up at a bar, and we fucked all night. We talked a lot too. I was 19, I was smack in the middle of my transition, and T had turned me into a horndog."

"T? Testosterone?"

"Yep."

Jules had also found out about Chad's transsexuality when the Wolf had drowned his soul into his. Such a fundamental aspect of the man was impossible to ignore, not as their beings had been merged like this.

"You probably don't know shit about trans dudes", said Chad.

"Actually, I've read a lot about it after I watched Boys Don't Cry."

The studious teenager was like that -- he heard of something he knew little about, and he went and read everything he could find about it. The Internet made knowledge an easy commodity to acquire.

"Boys Don't Cry's ending sucks. I hate queer movies where the queer dies at the end."

"I can see why."

Jules had secretly watched his share of LGBT films, in an attempt to understand himself. He had stopped after watching Mysterious Skin. As beautiful as it had been, some movies are too close to home.

"Are you gay?", asked Chad.

Jules cheeks flushed. The bashful teen pondered the question a moment.

"I don't know. I like men. I think I like women too. It's weird. My father fucked me up, I think."

It surprised Jules, how freely he brought up his father.

"Who you like has nothing to do with what your father did to you. Liking someone is a beautiful thing. What your Dad does to you, it's an ugly thing."

Jules swallowed.

"So you know."

"It's written all over you. There's no way I wouldn't have known when you bonded with me."

He remembered when it had been his turn to take Chad's bite. He had been gentle, far less aggressive than the Wolf had been with his. The shapeshifter had writhed and moaned in his embrace, and Jules had known that it transcended the realm of the physical. He had been somehow aware of his own essence penetrating the young man, as if he had reached inside him with both hands and felt his insides all over. He had been claiming his packmate -- that's what they were now -- but he was also letting the young man in on what manner of being he was. Wolves already learned a lot from a person's scent, but through such an intimate sharing as bonding, it seemed little could remain hidden.

"It's okay", whispered the native man.

Jules burrowed his face in the crease of Chad's neck.

"You're not the way I thought you'd be", said the Haitian boy. "You're so different than the way you treated me before."

"You mean I'm nicer when not threatening to blow your head off?"

"Or gut me alive."

The Wolf ran a hand over the Haitian boy's frizzy hair.

"I have to protect the pack. Please understand that."

"And I was a loose end."

Jules remembered the mouth of the cannon against the back of his head.

"You Wolves have a knack for threatening to kill me and apologize afterwards."

"I hope that doesn't happen again. I mean it. I'm glad things turned out the way they did."

There were mastectomy scars under both of Chad's nipples, where he'd had his breasts removed. Jules traced a path along one of the scars with his fingers.

"Where you scared?", he asked. "When she told you the truth?"

"Yeah. She had planned to make me into her meal when she picked me up that night. But things happened differently. It was freaky with she showed me the truth. But at the same time... It was like the coolest thing ever."

Jules nodded, bobbing his head in silence for a few seconds, recalling the night in the abandoned warehouse when Conrad had transformed for him.

"I know what you mean. I thought I was crazy for... for enjoying that Conrad made me touch him like that. While he was changed, I mean."

His new packmate laughed.

"You and I, I think we were both a bit crazy. But crazy ain't always bad."

Jules hesitated before he asked his next question.

"How... how could you eat someone? To turn. How could you do it?"

Chad stared at the copper leaves on the ground.

"I wanted to be like her. And she needed me to be with her. She... wasn't 'made' like most Wolves. She was alone a while. Alone hurts. You and me, we think we know what it is, but we don't know it like Cat or Connie do. And I hope we never will."

"It's really so bad for Wolves to be alone? Conrad said something about that."

The young man turned to face Jules. He gave him a light kiss on the lips.

"We're not alone now, are we?"

Jules lowered his gaze to his packmate's shoulder.

"You're right. We're not. It feels good to have people."

"You don't have people. You have Wolves."

The Haitian boy seized his lover's skin between his teeth, right where his bite was. Chad winced and muffled a moan.

"I have teeth too", said Jules.

He began tonguing the magical spot, taking control over his lupine companion. They had both removed their shirts earlier, but had made love only through their bites, and some petting of their exposed torsos. Now Jules wanted a taste of something different. He ran his hand along Chad's pudgy stomach, and began unbuttoning the loose jeans he wore.

"Is that alright?", he asked.

"Fuck yeah", breathed Chad.

He tentatively explored the realm of the young man's crotch. Jules wondered briefly if he was skipping steps somewhere, groping a trans man when he had not even been with a woman before. This felt... advanced. His fingertips found untrimmed pubic hair, softer than his own or Conrad's. He explored further, and found folds of burning flesh, from which emerged a tumescence that surprised him by it size.

"You're big", he let out.

Chad chuckled.

"People usually don't say that about my cock."

"I mean... for a clit. I didn't know it could get that big."

The Wolf began to rock his hips, moving his engorged member against Jules fingers.

"It's the T. It makes it bigger than a woman's would be."

There was slippery moisture all over Chad's cunt. Jules used it to lubricate his hand and slide his digits all around the horny bud.

"Do you still take them? The hormones? Does that work with you being a Wolf?"

"That's one of the best parts: I don't need them anymore. My Wolf body knows who I am, and it provides. I have a man's hormones now. I'm even at peace with having a pussy, it doesn't feel anymore like it's just there to remind me of how fucking incomplete I used to be."

Chad stirred and bit his lower lip.

"Fuck, you're not bad at this. Stick a finger in."

"Like... in you?"

"Yeah, fuck me with your finger."

Jules tentatively obliged, reaching further, lower. He found an opening, wet, that parted for his finger. He pushed in. The Wolf closed his eyes and grinned.

"Oh yeah, move that around a bit."

The teenager began thrusting his finger back and forth, feeling around the warm canal that hugged his index., He rubbed the prominent clit with his thumb, but also massaged around it -- he had read somewhere the clitoris was very sensitive, and he didn't want to overdo it. Chad reeked of sex. It was the first time the Haitian boy was having consensual sex, sex he wasn't trying to shut out, since he'd been bitten. He inhaled the fragrances that the man he was stimulating produced in his rut. Jules himself was hard, his engorged cock straining through his jeans, poking Chad's backside. He realized there was room for more inside his packmate; he pushed in another finger, pounding the hungry cunt hard and fast. Suddenly, the Wolf grunted, turned feral. Powerful muscles squeezed the boy's fingers, clamping down on them, refusing to let them go. Chad bent forward, rocking back and forth, riding what Jules unmistakably knew was an orgasm. It seemed to refuse

to end, the pussy trying to swallow his fingers whole. The Wolf's sweat was pungent with spent lust. The teenager remembered Conrad coming inside him, how endless that had been. Finally, Chad's cunt let Jules go. His fingers felt bruised. He remembered that movie he had seen once with Hector, Teeth.

"That... was something", said Jules.

"Wolf orgasm. You've seen it before."

The boy nodded.

"Is it always like that?"

"If we let it happen. We can suppress it and fake a human orgasm, if need be. But there's no point in ruining the fun with a lover who's in the know, is there?"

Jules was forcing his fingers to move, trying to shrug off some of their stiffness.

"I didn't know a vagina could clamp down so hard."

"It's all muscle. A human cunt can already do some impressive stuff. Our muscles are a lot stronger when we change. All of them."

Chad rested his head against Jules cheek. The stocky man was shorter than the lanky teenager.

"You're not too weirded out?", he asked.

"By you being Wolf, or by you being trans?"

"Being trans. I'm sure you're getting used to the Wolf stuff by now."

The Haitian reflected on the matter a moment.

"It should be weird. But it just makes sense if you look at it the right way."

"Which is?"

"You're a man. You feel like it, you even smell like it, mostly. It's just that you... you have a vulva."

The trans man let out a playful laugh.

"You sound so proper when you say it. Vulva."

Jules' cheeks became flushed.

"Shut up."

"You weren't so damn polite about my 'vulva' when you had your fingers stuffed in it. You sound like the kind of kid who never swears and uses all the proper words all the time. God, Connie must be having a field day with you when you get formal like that."

The bashful teenager sighed.

"He does."

"Fuck him like a bitch when you see him. Teach him his place."

Jules eyes widened as the Wolf said these words.

"He'll never let me do that."

"Don't wait for his permission. He owes you one, I reckon."

The boy lowered his head.

"Oh God. How much did he tell you?"

"He told Cat everything in details. She loves that sort of stuff. That woman has a filthy mind."

Whatever the bite had done to him, it had not removed the ability for intense embarrassment. Jules wanted to bury himself into the cold ground and not come out until Spring. Chad smirked at him.

"Hey, don't feel so bad about it. There's nothing wrong with being the bottom. It's good to feel somebody else's manhood."

Jules stared at the ground, replying nothing.

"Can I see yours?", asked the Wolf.

"M-mine?"

"I want to see your cock. I want to see how you're made."

The Haitian hesitated, then stood up. He reached for his fly and unbuttoned it. The thought of his father crossed his mind. He chased it away. He pulled down pants and underwear to his thighs. This wasn't the awkward striptease he had performed for Conrad, nights ago. His acute sense of smell picked up genuine curiosity from the Mohawk man, a brisk scent. He indulged him. He had gone soft through their talks, although he noticed a wide spot of precum staining his black boxer briefs. Soft, Jules' cock was much shorter, but ample nonetheless. Chad, sitting cross-legged in front of him, reached for it, copping a feel, gauging its heft.

"It's nice. I like the way it looks when it's soft. It's well-proportioned."

He ran his fingers through the frizzy pubic hair. Jules did not trim; he never had reason to maintain himself for anyone. His forest was rather generous. Men in his family tended to be hairy, or at least his father was. Jules for himself shaved his beard every other day, even at 15, and he knew Jacob had also started to shave. The thought of his family clung to him, that of his father especially. All of a sudden, he wanted very much to not be naked anymore.

"I'd never seen a black guy's pubes before. I guess it makes sense they'd be frizzy too. It's kinda neat."

He glanced up at Jules.

"You made me come. I should return the favour, but you aren't in the mood anymore, are you?"

The gangly teenager shook his head.

"Sorry. Weird thoughts in my brain."

Chad gently helped him pull his underwear and pants back up.

"Don't apologize. There's no need for it. Just keep in mind I owe you one mind-blowing orgasm for later."

Jules smiles meekly.

"Alright. I will."

The Wolf stood up, and put his t-shirt back on. He then picked up his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. He took a few steps towards the tall pine tree, against which rested the empty shotgun. He retrieved the weapon, and turned to face Jules.

"Let's head back to the cabin. The others are waiting."

Jules had somehow expected the cabin to be a small hut made of logs. Instead it looked more like a modest house perched on a hillside above the lake. Chad and Jules emerged from the woods facing the back of the lodge. The wall was covered with protective white polymer slates that had yellowed with age. Two squat, rectangular windows stared at them, and to their left beckoned a flimsy summer door made of aluminum, glass, and a mosquito screen. The stocky werewolf, still carrying the shotgun, veered towards it with a confident stride, and the lanky human boy lagged behind, hesitation slowing his step. Conrad was inside that cabin. The thought of what had urged Jules to undertake this journey to find the punk boy -- his quest to rescue Hector -- crossed his mind. Now he was entangled in a mess from which it seemed he would never escape. He belonged to Chad already, and soon he would also belong to the rest of the predators. He remembered the feeling of

the Mohawk Wolf overtaking his mind. He imagined Conrad, and the woman Catherine, doing that to him. A lump in his chest feared it, wanted to preserve what was left of him as a person, dreading the implications of becoming a thrall to Wolves. On the other hand, a jolt of anticipation running up his spine begged him to do it, to merge with those other beings and never know loneliness again.

Chad pulled open the door and stepped inside. Drafts of wood smoke, coffee, and cooked pork came to Jules. He overheard voices.

"You're back", said the feminine voice of Catherine.

"What were you up to?", asked a familiar barytone voice.

Jules heart slowed as he heard his past lover speak.

Conrad.

The timid teenager followed after the native Wolf, trying to appear nonchalant. Yet he was keenly aware he was making an entrance. For Catherine, he was declaring he had passed whatever test the pack had set for him. As for Conrad, he probably had no idea he was with them. Jules held the flimsy aluminum door and crossed the threshold, following after Chad.

It led to the cabin's kitchen and dining room. Catherine was sitting at the table, an oaken thing whose varnish bore the marks of age. She was sipping noodles, some kind of Asian pork ramen -- Jules could tell from the salty scent that emanated from it. Conrad was standing at the sink, elbow-deep in dishwater. He wore only a black wifebeater of which the colour matched that of his tight jeans. The shirt revealed his arms, which bulged from the muscles of the feral form; he was half-changed. He had shaved off his mohawk, no doubt to become less conspicuous, and a thin, chestnut growth of hair now covered his skull. He had his back to Jules and Chad, concentrated on his task of scrubbing what seemed to be an antique cast-iron pan. He had not seen -- or smelled them -- coming, it seemed.

"Hey, so you didn't blow handsome's brains out after all!", exclaimed the She-Wolf.

The Haitian drew in a deep breath. Conrad's head perked up, and he began turning around.

"Who's with--"

He stood there, his mouth agape, when his amber animal eyes locked with those of the human teenager, this boy he had twice made his own. He sucked in his lower lip.

"Jules."

The spindly Haitian held Conrad's gaze. The human boy wanted to find something clever to say, but his wit failed him. He waited for the inevitable snarky remark the young punk would utter. Conrad wiped his wet hands on his jeans, and stepped towards him. He came to stand right in front of him.

"Fucker", he whispered. "Motherfucking fucker."

"Nice to see you too", replied Jules.

There was coldness to the black boy's voice. He could not quite make out what scent he picked up from the surprised punk. He thought of cherries left too long under the Summer sun.

"There's the bedroom, if you guys need time alone to patch things up", said Catherine between to mouthfuls. "I'm not moving from the kitchen. I'm hungry."

Jules wanted very much to reply something mean to her, but he dared not. He realized the She-Wolf still frightened him. She had never been as overtly threatening as Chad, and yet he was certain she would snap a human's neck and not think twice about it.

"She has a point", said Chad. "Looks like the two of you have a thing or five to get sorted out."

He set his weapon against the wall, next to a wooden cupboard.

"Come with me", said Conrad.

'I'm fine where I am.' The words nearly tumbled out of Jules' mouth, but Chad's fingers brushed against his right shoulder, right where his bite was.

"Go with him. Make this better."

He obeyed. They crossed a living room with a vast bay window with a view on the placid lake. There were many unpacked boxed piled up, a worn out couch, a widescreen TV with a few gaming consoles hooked up to it. A game was on, and a medieval warrior in armor was sitting at a bonfire, waiting for the player to pick up the controller and resume whatever quest he was set on. Conrad ignored him and opened a door to a small room. There was an old dresser in it with faded paint, and a bunk bed. Jules walked in, and the Wolf shut the door behind them. He turned to look at his former lover, and Jules saw Conrad had shifted back to his human guise. Finally, the punk boy sighed, and sat on the bed.

"It's been a rough few days for me", he said. "What about you?"

"What do you care?"

Conrad shook his head.

"I don't care why you're here, what made you do it, or what the fuck you were doing in the middle of the wood with Chad and his shotgun. I've had plenty of time to think -- I don't want to be a smart-ass about this."

The werewolf lowered his gaze.

"I missed you. I'm just glad that you're here. There, I said it. Tear away at me if you want."

Jules' heart tightened when he realized he heard sincerity in the Wolf's voice. He turned away. He hated this.

"You left me on my own, with this THING that's going through me, that you put in there. There was no one to tell me anything, no one I could talk about this."

"That wasn't the plan, believe me."

Jules snorted in anger.

"That wouldn't be an issue if you hadn't bitten me in the first place."

"Are you mad that you were bitten and that it changed you, or that I didn't ask you if I could do it?"

The irritated teenager walked to the narrow window in the wall to the far end of the room. He stared outside, at the tall pine trees bordering the forest. The day was late, and long shadows loomed from the forest

"You didn't have the right", he said.

"No, I didn't. But it felt so amazing being with you that I couldn't stop myself."

Jules snickered.

"Bet you tell that to every boy you fuck and bite."

"You were the first."

The werewolf punk chuckled softly.

"Not that I've fucked. But that I've bitten."

The young human turned his thoughts to those boys screaming in the alley. The image of teeth sinking into tender flesh flickered in his brain.

"And those I've eaten don't count", added Conrad, as if guessing his thoughts.

"All the people you've killed..."

"Forty-six."

Jules spine felt like it was being raked by a metal-cold knife. He looked at the Wolf.

"You killed forty-six people?"

"Including a few Wolves. I told you before, I'm not a nice person."

Forty-six deaths. Forty-six lives taken. The Haitian boy tried to wrap his mind around the concept, around what it meant. People screaming, pleading for their lives. Jaws rending flesh, hungry maws feeding. Loved ones wailing, weeping, as they learned of the slaughter. He thought of the memorial at school. He remembered when his own mother had died. It had felt like his own life had ended that day.

"What am I doing here?", he whispered. "You're all killers."

"You've known that all along."

It was true. But how much of a choice did he have? Jules remembered that day in the cafeteria, when he had agreed to that date. 'You're on.' The words rang in his head.

"You want to know what I think?", asked Conrad.

"No, not particularly."

"You don't hate it as much as you tell yourself you do. In fact, I think you've wanted a lot of people to die before I killed those fucktards in the alley. But now that it's real, you're getting cold feet."

Jules took a step forward.

"How am I supposed to deal with that? You murdered forty-six people."

"If you think forty-six is high, you should ask Cat her number. That girl's been around."

The human teenager thought of the cold shotgun Chad had put to the back of his head, of how easily he could have ended all this. He had been right -- death would have been cleaner.

"Embrace it", said Conrad. "Cross the line. Become a killer yourself. Life doesn't end the moment you do that. You'll be more powerful that you could ever have dreamed of, and you'll have a pack. You will get away with it."

Jules clenched his fists. This is what he had chosen. This is what he had decided when he had chosen to live. He had known the implications. He could have been noble and died his way out of this, but he had picked the path that led to horrors instead.

"Face it, boyfriend: you've never had power, and I've handed it to you on a silver platter. You're just afraid to come out and say you want it."

"I'm not your boyfriend. And I'm not gonna do this."

The werewolf stood up from the bed. His visage shifted to its feral aspect. He smirked.

"You got turned on when I called you boyfriend. I smelled it. You like hearing a beast like me calling you 'boyfriend'."

"Go fuck yourself, Conrad Blackstone."

"Dog, you're pretty when you're angry."

The human teenager's fist flew. The flat sound of bone and flesh hitting the same was heard when he hit the werewolf's jaw. Conrad laughed.

"Feels good, doesn't it? Do it again. I can take it. I can take every single fucking thing you throw at me."

Something snapped inside Jules at that moment -- a dam that had been holding foul waters of repressed rage for years on end. Conrad could take it. He deserved it. He was a serial killer, a mass murderer. He could inflict his fury on the Wolf, give him what his smug, nonchalant face deserved -- that pretty face with a bleeding split lip that hadn't regenerated yet. Blood. Crimson. He reached out and grabbed the back of Conrad's head. The predator made no move to dodge or stop him. The furious human pulled with all the strength he was capable of mustering and he slammed his lover's skull against the nearby wall. The gyprock shattered where the head met it. Jules had not let go yet. He threw Conrad towards the bed, and kicked his backside to make sure he fell and landed there. He deserved it. He was a cold-blooded killer, and a thief who had taken Jules' humanity away.

The Haitian stood there, panting. His hand throbbed. The punk boy turned to face him. The cut on the lip was gone, but some blood trickled from his scalp. He was smiling.

"Got that out of your system already? I bet you have a lot more of that where that came from."

A brief moment, Jules wished he had the knife.

He launched himself forward and landed on Conrad, kneeing him in the stomach. He saw his move knock the air out of the Wolf, but Jules had become an unthinking animal. The urge to assert his dominance over the predator was all that inhabited him now. He punched the face once, twice, ignoring the pain in his own hand -- it would heal pretty fast anyway, wouldn't it? He was like them, now. On the third punch, he heard the bone of the nose crunch, and blood gushed. Conrad reverted to his human guise, wincing. It felt like some kind of victory.

Conrad opened his eyes. Jules had never paid that much attention to them in the past. They were a vivid shade of hazel, watery. Not even a Wolf could take a broken nose without tearing up a bit, it seemed. The punk boy stared at the Haitian in the face. Jules turned away.

"You should make me yours", said Conrad.

"Stop it. You're sick."

Jules heard motion on the bed, the werewolf boy sitting up. The scent of blood refused to leave.

"You have a pack now. We play rough, but we'll care for you."

"You guys have weird ways of caring."

"Being cared for in a weird way is better than not being cared for at all. You deserve better."

Jules turned. There was coalesced blood on the Wolf's face, but his nose had otherwise mended already.

"Stop acting like you know everything about me."

"But I'm right, am I? You're not cared for. Me, a fucking monster, is caring better for you than your own kind."

The ball of pain, of ugly repressed emotions that had broken Jules in front of Chad earlier welled up again. He inspired deeply. Not in front of Conrad. 'Don't let him play with you.'

"I'll give you something, Jules. Power over me."

He stood, then he turned his back to the human boy and fumbled with his leather belt. He untied his jeans and pulled them down, baring his pale ass. With his right index finger, he stroked a spot on the back of his thigh.

"There. This is where I was bitten, before Derek and his thugs turned me. When I bit you, there was a bond that was made between you and me, and even the others of the pack. If you touch me there--"

"I know about that already. Chad and I... We've already done that."

Conrad turned, an eyebrow raised in surprise. Jules gaze flickered for split-second to his soft cock and his tan pubic bush.

"Chad likes you?"

There was a bewildered tone to his voice.

"When he's not threatening to rip my guts out or blow my head off with a shotgun, I guess he does."

"Of course he would...", muttered Conrad under his breath.

The Haitian boy recalled his intimate moments with the older Wolf. His body longed to be embraced by him again, despite all that had happened. They belonged to one another now. Soon, he assumed, it would be the same with Conrad. Part of him still wanted to beat the punk boy to a bloody pulp. The other part of him wanted to kneel next to him and explore the wondrous spot that would force the werewolf to surrender utterly to him. Conrad writhing helplessly, yelping, moaning his name -- Jules longed to experience that, along with all the sex smells that would accompany this. But he wasn't quite there yet.

"You said the other day you would tell me how you became a Wolf."

Conrad picked at his bloodied nose.

"I said I might."

"I want to know. Now."

The half-naked Wolf sat down on the bed.

"You might want to sit down too. It's a bit of a story."

Jules leaned against the wall and sat down on the floor, close to the bump Conrad's head had left in it. The forlorn teenager wasn't feeling like getting cozy to the Wolf on the bed. The young werewolf glanced outside through the window, lost in some memory.

"It happened almost two years ago", he started. "I was thirteen, and a whore."

He began telling his story.

TO BE CONTINUED.