Tenderness of Wolves

THE TENDERNESS OF WOLVES

The following story contains sex acts between male teenagers where consent is 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 4 â€" Jules

Conrad returned from the bar with two pints of frothy, amber liquid and set them on the wooden table. He sat down in the secluded booth, facing Jules. It was late in the afternoon, and there were few patrons in the drinking establishment. It was a hole in the wall, a dive secluded in an old building's basement. It was not filthy, however, and had a touch of class. They were sitting in a cushioned booth â€" the seats were covered in burgundy leather -- and the table between them was a thick slab of varnished wood that held a certain elegance. The barkeep was milling about, smiling and humming in tune with the music; he was a young man of no more than 20, a pudgy, happy-looking punk with a jacked up mohawk and a collection of facial piercings. He had known Conrad by name and had not carded them. Punk music shouted aggressive lyrics. Jules didn't know the band, but it sounded old, like something out of the 80s; the song talked of having nothing to do

except for watching TV and having a couple of brews.Â

"I can't believe the bartender is letting us drink", whispered Jules.

Conrad snickered. Â

"Don't be such a kid. We both look like we could be 18, the place is almost empty, and he's a friend of mine."

He was wearing an old t-shirt with torn sleeves that featured some obscure band logo, along with a picture of Prometheus having his liver ripped out by a monstrous eagle. Conrad had waited until after school to put it on; rules were strict regarding violent t-shirts. Now he sat there with his nonchalant slouch, the shirts exposing his arms; they were pale, but the muscles had a certain tone to them. Jules was trying to ignore that he enjoyed the exposed skin. He glanced at the barkeep.

"Does he know that you're... You know..."

The werewolf cut him off.

"There are some rules, Jules. I won't tell you who else is a Wolf", he said in a low voice. "I won't tell you either who is a human ally. We don't have a lot of laws, but we get touchy when it comes to tattletales."

He picked up his glass and took a sip of the dark brew. Jules stared at his own glass dubiously.

"You've had beer before?", asked Conrad.

"A sip when I was a kid. It was pretty gross.”

"You're too much of a goodie two-shoe. Drink."

Jules sighed. He brought his own glass to his lips. He grimaced -- the liquid held a bitter taste.

"You'll get used to it", said Conrad.

Their "date" had taken an unexpected turn when Conrad had dragged him here, announcing that he didn't feel like going to the movies anymore. "Can't talk at the movies anyway", he had declared. Jules had remained quiet for most of their trip here. He couldn't decide what was more unnerving: the mere presence of the werewolf, or how casual Conrad remained in this bizarre situation.

"So, what did it?”, asked the shapeshifter. "Why are you here?"

The decision had been a difficult one. It had taken an a whole evening of thinking, secluded in his own room, away from his father. It had taken an uneasy night of tossing and turning and half-remembered nightmares. It had taken all morning at school, of people whispering as they saw his bruised face and pointing fingers behind his back. It had taken his brother's anger at him being hit and not fighting back. It had taken the weight of the Wolf's stare who refused to let him go. Then he had at last made up his mind. In the end, it had been all about fear.

"What's a werewolf afraid of?", asked Jules.

Conrad nodded his head in thought, considering Jules question. After a few seconds, he spoke.

"We don't feel fear anymore. Our emotions are different. When there is danger, we get really focused and intense instead. We don't really worry about the future either."

He took a large gulp from his ale.

"There are things that we don't want to happen though", he continued. "Hunger, and loneliness. These are the worst."

Jules considered Conrad's reply for a moment. He had not expected such a frank answer from the Wolf. Â Hunger, and loneliness -- the words echoed in his head.

"You haven't answered my question", insisted the werewolf boy.

Jules took a deep breath. Opening up to the Wolf was frightening in a sense, yet the Haitian felt a freedom to speak that he did not experience with other people, as if what he said could not influence how Conrad would see him.

"It's like fear is everywhere in my life. I'm afraid of what people are going to say or do to me each day when I walk to school. I'm afraid of what waits for me at home afterward."Â

He let the words linger before he resumed his explanation.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna wake up some night to find out a... a werewolf broke into the house and is gonna kill us. I'm afraid of the militias that patrol the neighborhood, because they're not good people. I'm afraid of the stuff the government is doing, of what this country is becoming.Â

He took a sip of beer, but managed to keep a straight face this time.

"I'm sick of being afraid."

“You're afraid of me."

It was not a question. Jules knew also there was no point in denying it -- he knew Conrad could smell such a thing on him. He simply nodded in assent.

"Then why agree to hang out like this?"

"I didn't want to run. I wanted to face this."

Conrad smiled. He appeared amused.

“And I thought it was because I had mentioned good head."

Jules felt his cheeks flush; the side of his face was still throbbing a bit from yesterday's events. He drank from the bitter brew to avoid having to answer. The idea of sex with the werewolf terrified him; the thought of enjoying the sex with the him was even worse, yet it wouldn't leave his mind. Jules would love nothing better than to pretend that the pleasure he had felt with Conrad had been merely physical, something that had been coaxed out of him without his willing participation -- the way his own father did. Yet deeper, more intimate needs had been stoked by the experience.

"You're getting a bit turned on", stated Conrad. "I can smell it."

Jules ignored that last assertion.

"You... live with other people?"

“I have a pack. We live together."

“What do you guys do?"

Conrad shrugged.

“Play video games, watch a lot of old TV shows. We have a lot of sex."

“That's... not what I expected."

"Well, we hunt when we're hungry, and sometimes there's Wolf stuff to take care of."

Jules sipped on some more of his beer. He remembered the savage beast that had slaughtered the three boys, without hesitation nor mercy. It was sitting right in front of him.

"You guys... do you really have to eat, well..."

“People?"

Jules stared at his own reflection on the surface of the dark liquid in his glass.

"Yeah. I mean, I've seen you eat regular food."

"They're different hungers. You know, I get hungry for everyday food, and I need to eat that stuff just like you. Then there's the Hunger, with a capital H."

Conrad pulled out a cigarette and lit up, even though smoking wasn't allowed in the bar. The barkeep noticed it, shook his head, but went back to his work. The Wolf took a long drag, and puffed out a ring of smoke.

"We need to eat humans, that's all. There isn't more to say about it. Some other meat won't cut it, not for the Hunger. A Wolf needs to eat a human each moon."

Jules tried to picture it. The werewolf had not eaten any of his victims when he had murdered his assailants. It had killed, then had fled, dragging Jules along with him. The boy imagined the monster tearing away the flesh with its implacable teeth, chewing, swallowing. Jules took another gulp from his drink. His face was starting to feel a bit numb -- was this the alcohol he was feeling already?

"It's my turn to ask a question", said Conrad.

Jules drank again, then looked up to meet the Wolf's gaze.

"Go ahead."

“You said you were afraid of home. Why?"

Jules bit his lip.

"That's none of your business."

"Not fair. You get to ask questions, I get to ask questions. What do you think I'm going to do? Make fun of you? Tell the whole school? I don't care about that shit."

"That's personal."

"I bet it's so fucking personal that millions of people have been through same thing than you before. You apes are so fucking conceited, thinking that your little tragedies are so damn unique."

Jules shook his head. He was not about to let Conrad push him around. The Wolf could do a lot, but he could not force him to talk.

“You haven't told me anything that personal", said the Haitian. "Ask another question."

"Fine. But you'll tell me later."

The bartender suddenly appeared next to their table, and put down an ashtray in front of Conrad.

"I fucking swear, YOU don't respect anything. I'll get in trouble because of you."

"Hi, Teddy Bear. Bring us another round, will ya? My friend could use another drink."

Teddy Bear turned to face Jules. His happy grin was back on his face.

"Rousse?"

“Err... yeah, sure."

The barkeep left to get their beer. Jules glass was indeed nearly empty.Â

“You're not afraid he'll hear our conversation?"

"Over the music? No. Anyway, I smelled him coming. You humans are easily startled. So, I should ask another question then?"

Jules glanced over his shoulder. Teddy Bear was still filling drinks from the taps. Conrad shook the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Are you happy that I killed Williams?”, he asked. "I know he was always giving you a hard time.”

Jules' mouth became a pasty, dried up mess in an instant. He picked up his glass and drank the last of his beer. His heart was drumming against his chest. There was a sickness in his gut.

"I... I didn't hate him enough to want him dead. I..."

Conrad raised a hand and silenced him. Jules looked over and saw Teddy Bear walking towards them with two fresh pints. He looked back at Conrad. The werewolf was staring at the him, his eyes revealing nothing. The barkeep set the drinks on the table, and Conrad handed him another bill; Teddy Bear bumbled away happily, whistling some song.

"I will kill again for you. You just have to ask."

"I... I don't want you to kill anyone", Jules said.

He thought of the booze on his father's breath when he leaned close to him. He thought of the callused hand groping him. Jules took another sip of beer. Should he be drinking? Alcohol was his father's vice. Conrad stretched, and reached for his own glass.

“I'm gonna kill whether you want me to or not. At least, it could be someone that bothers you."

Jules glared at the Wolf.

"You enjoy messing with me.”

"I'm not messing with you. If you ever change your mind, you'll see how quickly your problem will be gone.”

Conrad put out his smoke.

"You're not that clean either", he continued. "You're an accessory to a triple murder. You became one the second that you chose not to call the cops on me. And you are aiding and abetting an enemy to your species."

The werewolf's comment did not surprise Jules. He had anticipated the predator would bring this up sooner or later.

“You threatened me. That's why I didn't call the police. And I'd say the same if they ask why we met afterward."

"You think the authorities would actually bother sorting out whether you were a willing accomplice or not? When it's so easy to just vanish you?"

The Haitian boy shuddered. The government had special prisons for people involved with werewolves. No one knew for sure what happened to people there.

"I'm just a kid.”

"Like they care. And you're black on top of that. Can't believe you humans are still so keen on the whole racism thing with werewolves on the loose."Â

Up until that moment, Jules' most concrete fear about the recent events had been what the Wolf could have done to him. He had experienced a lot of complicated feelings since yesterday, and the idea of being in trouble with the police had occurred to him. Yet how dangerous Conrad was had been his most immediate concern. Now, with all this talk of vanishing people, Jules was starting to wonder if he should not worry more about the government and less about being eaten. Vertigo started hitting Jules.

"Come on, chug that thing", said Conrad. "I'm getting sick of that place. I wanna take you somewhere."

"I think I should go home."

"Chug. And come with me. I'm not done with you."

He should end this now. Leave while it was still possible. Bolt, and make a run for it. Conrad would not dare chase him into the streets, not with people there. He could still call the police, set everything right. Go back to his life. His shitty, miserable life.

Conrad grinned.

"Stop that", said Jules.

"Stop what?"

"Stop smelling me."

“Scaredy cat. Run if you want. Call the cops. I won't even hurt you if you do. You want to bail, do it now."

The werewolf boy took his own glass, and started downing his drink. What did the Wolf want with Jules anyway? None of this made sense. Jules wished he'd simply gotten beaten, and that none of the rest had happened. Conrad put down his glass in one swift move, banging it against the hard table.

"I want to have sex. I want to take you someplace where I can fuck you."

Jules' groin stirred when he heard the words. It was an automatic reaction, an instinct. The rest of Jules wanted to stop existing at this very moment.

"I could make you WANT it, you know", continued the werewolf.

"What do you mean?"

Jules mouth was dry. He drank again.

"Do you know what pheromones are?"

The Haitian boy nodded hesitantly. He didn't like where this was going.

“We have extremely good control over our bodies, and when I smell you, I can pick up exactly what kind of chemistry would drive you crazy. I could change my pheromones to match just that. Every part of your brain that reacts to sex would fire up, would scream at you that I'm the perfect mate for you."

The Wolf leaned forward, a dark grin on his lips.

"Someone who is disgusted by me or who isn't normally attracted to men might not necessarily give in, although they would feel pretty messed up by the fucked up desires that came out of nowhere. But you, when I know that you're already naturally attracted to me? You'd be my little bitch. I could tear off your clothes and take your sweet little ass right there on the bar table, and all you'd do would be to yell at me to pound harder."

Jules' heart was racing. He had to go, now.

"You're making this up."

"It'd be kinda hot to make you feel like that, to force you to need it so bad."Â

Conrad licked his lips. But then, he stood up.

"But I'd rather if you had sex with me because you actually like me. It might sound weird, but I do respect you, Jules, and I'd rather do this... the natural way."

Conrad picked up his jacket and put it on.

"So you have a choice. You can bolt now, and I won't do anything about it. I'll get out of your life. Or you can come willingly with me, and I'll give you the most amazing sex you'll ever have, and you'll be yourself while it's happening. But if you keep fussing around like that without making your mind, I swear that I'll reduce your brains to sexual mush, fill up every orifice of yours with my cum, and eat you when I'm done. So what will it be, pretty boy?"

Jules took a deep breath. "Get the fuck out of here”, his mind screamed. "Go back to your fucked up life. Stay away from that beast." Jules picked up his glass of beer, and tried to chug. Maybe the booze would give him courage. He found out that he couldn't quite actually gulp down the whole thing: he had to swallow, and then breathe, swallow, and then breathe. Yet, Conrad nodded approvingly.

"Nothing like liquid courage."

Jules put down the empty glass. He was an idiot.

"I'll go with you", he said.

"I know."

"This is messed up."

"Meh", Conrad shrugged. "Teddy Bear! Bring us two shots of tequila! For the road!"

"Coming up, Connie!"

“Oh God”, balked Jules.

He had never had hard liquor.

“God won't save you, but booze will make everything better."

Teddy Bear walked up to their table, carrying a tray. On it was three shooter glasses filled to the brim with clear liquid, three slices of lemon, and a salt shaker.

"It's on the house", said the barkeep. "I'll have one with you guys. It's boring this afternoon, and Connie's all busy hitting on you instead of entertaining me. You've had tequila shots before, kid?"

"Err... yeah, sure."

"He hasn't", interjected Conrad. "And he's a lousy liar."

Teddy Bear laughed.

“I can see that. Bet you aren't even 18 either. Don't answer that. I don't have to kick you out if I don't know."

"You lick you hand and pour salt on it", explained Conrad. "Then you lick the salt off your hand, you down the shot, and you bite in the lemon right afterward.”

He handed the salt shaker to Jules, who followed the first of his instructions. The Haitian boy wondered how strong the liquor would taste, but it was a rather secondary preoccupation. He was about to willingly follow a werewolf to have sex. There existed an insult for people like that, but even the kids at school rarely used it: wolf-fucker. He was a wolf-fucker, on top of being a fag, and who knew how things would go. Would Conrad hurt him? He couldn't picture the Wolf being gentle about it. He had said he wanted to fuck him. There would be no copping out this time; he was a willing participant in this. Then, after all that, what would the Wolf do? Would he kill Jules once he got what he wanted? Jules picked up his own shot. The others had also prepared for their drink.

"I'm insane."

“Shut up, and drink”, ordered Conrad.

"To your first tequila shot, kid!", cheered Teddy Bear.

They licked the salt, and downed their shots. Jules did the same. It took half a second for the burning taste of the alcohol to hit him. He hurriedly grabbed the lemon and bit into it. It helped, although he could feel the tequila burrowing its way to his stomach. Jules couldn't believe people did these things for fun.

He stood up to grab his jacket, but the world became wobbly. He lost his balance a bit and grabbed the table to steady himself. He was drunk.

"Yeah, it tends to hit when you stand up", said Teddy Bear.

Conrad merely smiled.

"Well, you guys go have fun, some of us have work to do", said the bartender, as he brought back the tray to the bar.

Jules put on his thick hoodie. He tried hard not to think; the alcohol made that easier.

"There are a lot of things I want to show you tonight", said the Wolf in a low voice. “You and I are gonna have some fun."

He inched closer to Jules, putting his large hands on the Haitian boy's waist. Jules tensed up. The Wolf's contact made him shy away, yet tingles ran to his loins. Jules darted his eyes left and right, checking to see if the few other patrons in the bar noticed that two boys were touching in such an inappropriate way. No one paid them any heed.Â

Conrad leaned forward, and took Jules' left earlobe between his lips. He nipped, hard. Jules bit his own lip, hissing at the pain; his cock swelled. He could smell Conrad, a blend of cigarette smoke and male sweat. It was a ripe, full aroma, nothing like Hector's sweet smell that he had clandestinely whiffed on occasion from one of his friend's t-shirt.Â

Jules' face was a pleasant numbness, and despite how frightened he was of the Wolf, something was uncoiling in his gut, relaxing. The alcohol was doing its work. He thought for a moment of what Conrad had said, what he could do with pheromones. Was he doing that to him right now? Would he know if it happened? Maybe he could stop being afraid for a little while -- being so close to Conrad soothed a primal urge to feel a boy's body pressed against his.

"I want you to trust me", whispered the Wolf to his ear.

"How... how could I? You're dangerous."

Conrad brushed his lips against the ridge of Jules ear. It tickled.

“Trust isn't about crossing your fingers and telling yourself nothing horrible will happen. It's not about deluding yourself that the other person would never do anything to hurt you. That's naivete, the sort of dumb thing schoolgirls do when a pretty boy tells them he loves them. Trust is something else."

“What is it?"

“Accept that I can hurt you Jules. I can kill you. I can do horrible things to you. You'd be an idiot to tell yourself otherwise. But I want you to let go.  I want you to take that chance, to own that decision, to be serene in the face of that danger."Â

Conrad kneaded Jules butt cheek through the rough fabric of his jeans. Shivers ran to Haitian's sex; he was not used to being caressed in a way that he enjoyed. The Wolf was still talking softly to his ear, his voice deep yet serious.

"Because there are good things that we can have, you and I, and I want you to open yourself to them. That openness, that knowing willingness to take a risk to be closer to someone â€" that's what trust is. To trust, you must be aware of the dangers, and accept them."

Conrad pulled away slightly, to look into his eyes. Jules trembled. The Wolf's face was a mask of placid calm. The Haitian boy knew of the merciless beast that lurked within. Conrad murdered without hesitation -- he took pleasure in it. He constantly toyed with Jules, savoring how he could twist the boy around his finger.

"What am I to you?", asked Jules.

"Potential."Â

He leaned forward and kissed Jules softly on the lips. It was a tender, affectionate touch. Still, Jules had not closed his eyes and was staring into the black pits that were the Wolf's eyes. They were cold, gauging him.

"You are a clever, brave boy who deserves so much better than what humans can give you", said the werewolf. "I can give you so much, Jules, you have no idea."

A thought crossed Jules' mind. He remembered something Conrad had said the previous evening.

"You said you'd tell me how you became a werewolf", Jules whispered.

"Not yet. You're not quite ready. I want you to trust me first."

Conrad released Jules from their embrace.

"Let's have fun tonight. Nasty, wicked fun that you'll remember until the day you die."

Jules lips felt dry, despite all he'd had to drink. He licked them. Conrad Blackstone would be his end, a murderous, bloody end. But maybe he'd get to live a little until then.

"Okay", Jules said. "Let's go."

TO BE CONTINUED

P.S. Some readers have been requesting more sex. I totally agree! So in the next chapter, things will get nasty. ;)