Wolf Station Chapter one: Walkabout By Evan Andrews ©2023
This is a not really a fan fiction, but...
"Wolf Station" is part of a larger cycle of stories related to my Hunters and Hunted series. This is not your typical werewolf story any more than Hunters and Hunted is your typical Dracula story.
As always, I had some faces in mind as I wrote these stories. Wulf is based on retired rugby player David Williams, Grey on Hugh Jackman, rangers Alby and Magnus on adventurer Alby Mangels and straight porn star Justin Magnum. This story should not be considered a true representation of the sexuality of either the actors or the characters they play. The ranger as well as Drakkar and his village are borrowed from a NPhillyDogg story `Aborigines'.
I apologize for all the Australianisms I'm about to get wrong; please know that no insult was meant.
The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If this offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
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"You're sure about this, Wulf?" the Brother called Grey asked his packmate and best friend.
"Well, I definitely want out of this city. And so do you. So yeah, I'm sure," the scruffy hunk replied.
"But..."
"Look, I know a Brother can make a decent living here if he's willing to be careful, and I admit it's easy to hunt here...
Grey grinned because he knew Wulf was talking about hunting something more challenging and rewarding than wallabies. After they reached puberty, Brothers hunted regular humans (what they called monkeys) to fuck. And by humans a brother meant men; women they only approached once every seven years to get a new crop of young Brothers. But Wulf was still talking...
"There's too much monkey in this town any more for me. Too many distractions," Wulf said. "And then, of course, there's our Alpha."
Grey winced. As a silverback, an elder Brother, he had watched their Alpha rise through the ranks and somehow, challenge and win the rank of pack-leader. But the man wasn't suited to leadership. He was too concerned with power—acquiring and keeping it-- and with authority—and not losing any. It was obvious to Grey (and therefore to every Brother in the vicinity) that Wulf and the Alpha were headed for a tussle. And it wouldn't be pretty, no matter who won. Maybe Wulf had the right idea—to get out while the getting was good.
"So... what?" Grey said to his younger Brother. "You're going walkabout?"
"Something like that. Yeah. Hold the fort `til I get back, Grey."
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A month later found Wulf tramping through Indigenous tribal lands, technically trespassing. At noon he came across the abandoned station that, if the faded wall art could be trusted, used to be a white man's mission. Wulf rolled his eyes. Missionaries were always trying to break the balanced play between nature and hunters. Still, even though the place needed an imperial ship-ton of repairs (something that could be easily taken care of, especially with a couple of pairs of willing hands helping-- and he had one of those pairs already) this place might do.
`Why the hell not?' Wulf thought as he set up camp in the yard for the night.
Several hours later he heard the sound of a land rover heading his way. He saw the headlights and watched as the rover bearing Rangers Alby and Magnus zeroed in on the old mission. (The two had only meant to get in a quick session of mutual masturbation, but when they noticed the glow of the campfire, they got all cop drama and killed their headlights.)
Wulf was hunkered down, watching a wallaby roast over a bed of coals he'd raked out of the fire proper. He'd heard the rover well before the rangers shut off their lights and engine, and now he heard them creeping up on him. They were quiet, for monkeys, he had to admit, but they weren't quiet enough. Wulf didn't even turn around when the two stopped, guns out.
"Hands in the air!" Magnus yelled, and Wulf raised his hands from the elbows.
"You two hungry?" Wulf asked by way of reply.
Cautiously Alby and Magnus sidestepped out of the shadows. Alby went left, Magnus right. They were at least that clever.
"Evening, officers," Wulf said, looking from one uniformed man to the other. He liked what he saw. The rangers were muscular without being hulks and handsome without being pretty boys. Maybe...
"You know you're trespassing, right? You're on Indigenous land," Alby said, momentarily breaking Wulf's train of thought.
"I saw an old weather-beaten sign, yeah," Wulf said.
"And it didn't bother you that the locals might show up and probably be less than thrilled to find you bivouacked here??"
Alby was absolutely flummoxed. He knew the locals, Drakkar and his village, and he especially knew what they'd do with a stray pretty boy like this one.
"It's a big wallaby," Wulf said, "More than enough to share."
"You're crazy, cobber," said Magnus.
"Probably. Anyway, grub's up. If any of the locals show up, they can help us eat it."
Wulf took the wallaby off the fire and set it on another set of forked sticks.
"It'll be better if we let it sit for a little while."
The rangers shrugged and holstered their sidearms before joining Wulf in hunkering round fire. Silently they watched the savory juices drip from the roast. Meanwhile Wulf made a mix from flour from his bag and dropped bannocks on a flat stone he set over the coals. It didn't take long for them to get done, and Wulf fished the waybread from the fire.
"Grub's up," Wulf announced.
The three men, looking like something out of thirty thousand years ago, pulled out their knives and sliced off choice morsels of the roast.
"Not bad," Alby said grudgingly as he chewed away, "You know how to cook roo proper."
"I should. I've been doing this since I was a boy."
"Cooking roo?"
"Cooking whatever I catch."
"You an Aussie?"
"What? I don't sound like one?"
"Hard to tell. You talk a little strange. I thought you might be some sort of Kiwi," said Alby.
"Or maybe a Canadian or an American. You're not posh enough to be a Limey," said Magnus.
"Not the type of Limey you'd find this far out," Alby admitted.
"And he's not puffed up enough to be an American," Magnus said
Wulf caught the subtle emphasis Magnus had put on the word and asked, "Is that a bad thing? Being American?"
"Maybe, around here, especially for a good-looking bloke like you," Alby said.
Wulf smiled inwardly, recognizing Alby's growing interest for what it was. Since the rangers had joined him, the Brother had been slowly amping up the animal magnetism that was part of his hunting toolkit, and clearly they were succumbing to his unspoken charms. This was too easy, Wulf thought. He could only barely call it hunting. Still... He made a bet himself that before midnight he'd have seeded both men.
"Why would my being good-looking make any difference?" Wulf asked.
The rangers looked at one another, silently debating. Normally, they'd never let out something as sensitive as the secret of Drakkar's village, but somehow they felt they could trust this man to keep his mouth shut.
"Okay, it's like this," Magnus said. "The local village has an agreement with the government. Some years ago, an epidemic came through that killed off a fair portion of the male population of the village."
"And all their women and children. The villagers were about to head out to recruit some brides, but there was some concern at a higher level that the virus might have become endemic, and that any women that came to the village might suffer the same fate," Alby said.
"So all parties reached an agreement that so long as the remaining men stayed on their land, they could take any Americans that strayed onto their land and make sex-slaves out of them," Magnus said.
"What about American women?" Wulf asked
"That hasn't come up," Alby said. "Yet."
"Sufficient unto the day..." Magnus started to quote, but Wulf interrupted him.
"Then it's a good thing I'm an Aussie. By the way, how do you two know all this?"
"It's part of our job's `official secrets'. Plus we've had to help maintain Drakkar's cover from time to time."
"So, he talks with you. Good. Do you think there's any chance this Drakkar would maybe lease the station to me?"
"Lease? You a missionary?"
"Fuck no. Tell me I don't look like a missionary."
"Just making sure. Anthropologist?"
"Double fuck no. And I'm not recruiting for the NRL or AFL."
"Then it's possible. We can talk to Drakkar for you tomorrow, if you'd like."
"Tomorrow?"
"Well, I'm sure as hell not gonna go off driving these back roads at night with only a crescent moon to see by."
Not that that had stopped them from seeking out the old, abandoned station, Wulf mused. But if he was being fair there really wasn't enough moonlight for monkey vision to be reliable. (Wulf could see just fine.) And besides, why waste all the magnetism he'd thrown at the men? It'd been a while since he got laid, and his cock had definite ideas.
"So, what shall we do until then?" Wulf mused coquettishly.
The Brother groped the hard shaft of fuck meat that was tenting his shorts, and the rangers, emboldened, followed suit.
Wulf was a Brother, which meant he'd grown up, like a cuckoo, in a monkey household. Mum, Da, and 2.58 children. There he'd learned monkey ways and how to operate in monkey society. He was good at it, until puberty hit. After that, Wulf's animal side had started to emerge.
It was a tough time. His parents hadn't understood his unquenchable urge to roam the night, to chase and subdue prey, and to mark it as his. (Prey once bred was released, with their memories blurred and emotions blunted, leaving the Brother free to hunt again when the urge next struck him.) Still, they were good people—in their way, and they let him find his own path, at least as much as they could. After he left them Wulf had held onto more of his monkey upbringing than many Brothers did. Accordingly, he knew how to proceed with this seduction—something other than just turning the animal magnetism on full bore and fucking this pair of studs into the ground. In this case, subtlety was called for. This might be his first meeting with these two, but if he and Grey moved in it certainly wouldn't be his last.
Wulf leaned towards the rangers, his lips parting, and entered into a kiss--first with a surprised Alby (though he got the idea fast and was quickly kissing back as good as he got), and then the open-jawed Magnus. Finally all three were sharing a complicated three-way kiss, tongues doing sensual battle and spit being traded from one stud to another. As this progressed, the men's hands began to roam, exploring each other's bodies; and before long clothes started to fall by the wayside.
Nominally straight, Alby and Magnus each had a woman at home to fuck, but when they were honest with themselves, they admitted they were cautiously bisexual. They were used, on patrols, to engaging in bouts of brotherly mutual masturbation and occasionally to fucking one of Drakkar's sex slaves when they passed through the village. In all instances, though, they were tops or at least equals. Now, though, they found themselves willingly letting Wulf take the lead. With a hand behind their shaggy heads, the Brother directed the rangers' mouths in a worshipful exploration of his muscular body. Slowly but surely, he guided them lower and lower towards his now-released and straining cock.
Traditional Brothers, when they hunted monkey-boys for sex, didn't go in for oral. Sucking cock and getting sucked was something monkeys did, and `monkey sucker' was a common insult. Instead Brothers liked to get to the horn-dog ass-fucking as quickly as they could, preferably breeding the guy from behind like a canine. Again, other positions were sneered at as monkey affections. Wulf was a more ecumenical sort of Brother, though, so tonight he let his precious pair of monkey-studs do what they thought they needed to. He wasn't disappointed by the results.
The rangers took turns, one deep-throating Wulf's impressive pole while the other one tongued his balls until they felt it was time to switch over. Deftly, Wulf maneuvered them into sucking his fingers and getting them dripping with saliva. Then he reached over their backs and started testing their sphincters for tightness and elasticity. The rangers moaned around Wulf's genitals as he finger-fucked them, demonstrating that, in spite of their usually protested orientation, they liked what he was doing. For his part, Wulf was pleased by the tightness of the holes waiting for him to take.
"Which one of you's the better fuck?" Wulf demanded.
The seduction a success, Wulf felt no qualms about turning on his magnetism full force now. Even though neither monkey-boy had ever been corn-holed before, neither one was ready to admit to being a second-rate fuck. They both boasted how ready they were to be take it up the butt, and they wagged their asses at him to prove their claim.
"Take me first," Alby said as he fell onto his hands and knees, presenting his posterior to Wulf, "I know some tricks that'll make your balls dance."
"No, me!" Magnus said, taking up the same position next to his buddy, "That old coot's starting to go to flab. You want a firm, muscular arse to fuck."
"Well, well," Wulf said, "Eeny meeny... I guess I'll just have to fuck you both to see who's telling me the truth."
A convoluted three-way ensued, with Wulf always in the active role, and over the next couple of hours Wulf fucked his money-boys in as many positions as they feasibly could.
Say what you want about monkey sex,' Wulf thought as he relished Magnus' man-cunt, But it is thorough.'
"I can't tell," Wulf admitted as the witching hour passed them by, "You're both hot fucks."
He was plugging Alby missionary position when he said this, kneeling between the ranger's spread thighs and plowing away the man's straight and narrow worldview.
"I think maybe you should do each other for a while," Wulf said suddenly.
The rangers broke into a sixty-nine, sucking cock and rimming dripping assholes alternately. Then Magnus got on all fours like a dog for Alby to fuck. (The advantage of seniority, Wulf guessed.) Then, they switched, and the younger muscle stud rodded his partner. Wulf was really enjoying the show. For monkey-boys these two were hot, and with their barriers down, they were acting out years of repressed fantasies.
Tugging at his own sloppy shaft, Wulf slowly worked his way back into the scene, and at length they all ended up in a fuck pile. Magnus was on all fours on the bottom; Alby crouched over top of him rutting away; and on the very top, Wulf stood, ostensibly fucking Alby's mud-hole, but actually letting the officer do the majority of the work.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Alby cried, as Magnus grunted out a litany that consisted of a repeated, "Fuck me, Alby! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"
"Make him shoot, Alby!" Wulf ordered, "Fuck him deep and hard. And you, Magnus, it's time for you to blow your wad to Alby's breeding you. Fuck him now, Alby!"
Having permission to give way to his wildest fantasies, Alby began to pound Magnus' ass, ramming hard against his partner's prostate as he did so.
"Shit! Fuck! Damn! Yeah! Soooo clooose!" Magnus gasped as he tried to fuck back against the anal assault.
At the same time, Magnus was flogging his meat for all he was worth, and it was a matter of seconds before his cock pulsed and sent a wad over his shoulder where it soaked into the red Australian earth. The remainder of his orgasm painted his muscled belly. For a change (though Wulf had no way of knowing this) the monkey-boy gasped out his release instead of screaming.
Alby hollered when Wulf pulled him out of Magnus' ass and up onto his feet. The full length of Wulf's fuck-rod began to beat the ranger's innards into next Saturday night while the monkey-boy just danced and jiggled on the impaling dick. Alby's entire fuck system cascaded into an impressive no-hands orgasm. A flood of sweet white man-goo burst from the end of his cock and ran in a thick flow down his shaft to where Magnus was now kneeling, waiting to catch the monkey-boy sperm in his open mouth.
"You're both hot studs," Wulf said, "So I have to reward both of you. Get on your knees, press your faces together so you can share my load."
The rangers kneeling side by side, like baby birds, begged, open-mouthed, for Wulf's seed. The Brother, once again indulging in what he knew was pure monkey shit, beat his meat until hot sperm shot out and coated the two desperate faces. When his dick was done with the show, Wulf stepped back and said, matter-of-factly, "You should clean up and get dressed now."
Wulf pulled on his own tank top and stubbies, watching as the rangers kissed and licked his warm cum off their faces. Only when every drop of white gold had been tasted and accounted for did they get around to dressing themselves.
Wulf was determined that neither man should suffer from this evening's romp. They had been good fucks, and he and his Brothers would need allies in this new land. As the rangers staggered back to their jeep, Wulf clouded their memories—the best he could do since he had no plans to Seal them as bitches—and started to ramp down his animal magnetism Blankly, the rangers tumbled into their jeep where they fell asleep. They both still had their dicks out, but since they'd stopped here to jerk off anyhow, that wouldn't seem too odd. Wulf put up his hammock and fell asleep, alone, but well satisfied with the day's (and night's) work.