Wolf Station Chapter 2: Kings of the Outback 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 rugby player David Williams, Grey on Hugh Jackman, Alby and Magnus on adventurer filmmaker 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 assume 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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When Wulf woke the next morning, the two rangers, Alby and Magnus, were gone, but they'd left a note.
"Gone to get Drakkar."
Wulf nodded. It was better this way. If he had gone with them that would be like him invading another hunter's territory. Of course he already had, in a way, but it was best not to act like he was challenging the local pack's leader and hierarchy. It was bad manners in the first place, and an invitation to possibly get his ass handed to him in the second. Both were bad things if you intended to hunker down here.
Instead, he spent the morning cleaning up around the place, including encouraging the local animal life to give the station a wide berth. (Brothers' piss was an effective deterrent to all sorts of vermin, down to and including spiders and the like.) He cut up the rest of the roo and tossed it into the pot with some roots he found to make a stew. He left the pot simmering for the rest of the day and rehearsed what he was going to say to this Drakkar when he showed up.
Wulf heard the rover in the distance as the sun started to set, and hat in hand he went to greet his guest. (The rangers didn't count.) The rover pulled in out of the bush with the two khaki-clad hunks in the front seat and a third man riding like a king in the back. With his arms relaxed at his sides, Wulf waited for the rover to stop and for Drakkar to come to him. The black-skinned stud got out and strode confidently forward, fixing the Brother with a steely eye. Wulf recognized this as part of an old monkey dominance game and decided not to respond to the implied challenge. Instead he projected a calm confidence of his own and waited.
"You Wulf?" Drakkar demanded as he walked into the ring Wulf had built around the fire-pit.
Wulf nodded.
"You Drakkar?" he asked in return.
The Indigenous man nodded too.
"Good. I'd say welcome, but this is your land, and that'd be wrong. Instead I think I'll say—you hungry?" Drakkar looked startled. He'd tensed when Wulf started to talk, but at the end he could only stare. This white man had balls, he had to admit. Then he looked closer in the waning light. White man, yeah, this Wulf was that in spades, but unlike most whites he was also clearly a hunter. A hunter like his people, and a hunter with stature among his own kind.
By kind, Drakkar admitted to himself that Wulf, was somehow of a different breed from the rangers and the government officials he had to put up with. And different from his village's collection of sex slaves. Different even from himself, one of the best hunters in his village. He could have been frightened by the strangeness, he ought to have been cautious, but instead he decided to be intrigued.
"Sure," was all Drakkar said.
The four pulled up some logs and gathered round the stewpot. Wulf produced knives and spoons and they all ate from the communal pot. Drakkar recognized the taste of roo, of course, but he approved of what the white hunter had done with the animal. He had used all of the animal to make a meal that was simple and filling. When they had eaten all they wanted, Drakkar was ready to get down to business.
"So, Alby and Magnus tell me you want to get this station back in operation?"
"Only with your approval and permission. My Brothers and I want out of the city, and this is far enough away for us to live the way we ought to. The way we need to."
Drakkar fully agreed with Wulf that city life was unnatural, and he nodded.
"And what do you need? What do you plan to do here?"
"Eat, sleep, run, fuck. All the things men do when they're left alone."
"You've got no plans to screw with us in the village, right?"
"Nope. None at all."
"You're a rare man, then."
"Damn straight I am!" Wulf affirmed.
"And you'd be alone?"
"No, like I said, my Brother, Grey, and maybe one other, would be the core of the place."
Drakkar heard Wulf say `brother' but knew he wasn't talking about a blood connection.
"And," Wulf continued, "We might have guests drop in from time to time. You have my guarantee that all guests will abide by the rules you and I lay down. Otherwise we'll run them the fuck out of here with their tails between their legs."
Drakkar considered. Wulf was exceptional, and it was clear he meant to stay. That being the case, it would be much better to have him as an ally than an enemy. Besides the tribe didn't use this area much. There was better hunting elsewhere—both animal and human. He also noticed Wulf didn't mention women, which was fine with him.
"Okay, then. Rebuild, run on the land, hunt—so long as you don't poach our prey. And fuck each other silly. It works for us, so long as you leave us alone."
Drakkar had been fucking American male ass almost exclusively for years, so he was cool with a load of weird-ass white homos moving in—so long as they kept their distance.
"You got me wrong, Drakkar. We fuck; we don't get fucked; and we don't fuck each other."
"So that means a sex slave—or more," Drakkar said matter-of-factly. "How many do you have?"
Wulf hadn't actually thought about the practical end of carrying on a Brother sex life out here in the end of nowhere, and he really didn't want to get into a discussion of it with this monkey, even if he was the most wolf-like monkey Wulf had ever met. But Drakkar was right. They'd need someone to fuck, and neither he nor Grey had a Sealed bitch.
"Uh..."
"Tell you what, I can let you have one of ours. The village has seven right now, and that's more than we really need to keep ourselves satisfied. Let's see..."
Drakkar slowly considered his stable of fuck slaves. In order of how recently they'd been taken and converted into sex slaves.
"We've got two blond brothers, Chris and Jay; Chris' big-dicked business partner, Logan; the three amigos, Zach, Brian, and Phillip; and the village's longest serving slave, Steve. Since my men are fixated on the new slaves, the choice is easy. You can have Steve. You'll like him. 20-something, copper-red hair, and an ass that really knows how to handle a hard dick."
Wulf looked at Alby who nodded.
"He's a fine fuck. Real compliant, and he sucks a mean cock too."
Monkeys and their cock-sucking,' Wulf thought, Sheesh.'
Aloud, however, he said, "If you have no objection, he sounds like he'll do."
Of course, Wulf had no plan to rely on some monkeys' second-hand sex slave in the long run, but a hole was a hole when a cock felt the need, and until the station was up and working and they had some Sealed bitches to anchor the den this Steve slave would have to do.
"Good."
As the stars danced across the sky, Wulf and Drakkar agreed on a timetable for refurb and for stocking the place for a long stay. The Brothers would have a rover, Wulf said, but they'd only use it for trips to the city. The Brothers would leave the village alone, just as they at the station expected to be left alone in turn. He'd have Grey, and whoever they chose to join them, in residence in a week or a little more.
"So you'll come for Steve then?"
"If that's what you want," Wulf said, "It makes sense, and I'm sure you'll want to look over my Brothers. Alby and Magnus can tell me how to find your village."
And that was all the business. The rest of the night the men told stories and sang songs before falling asleep beside the fire. (No fucking, though. There was no way Wulf was going to try anything funny with a new ally.)
The next morning the rangers drove Drakkar home, returning to station shortly after sunset. Wulf rewarded them with another night of hot sex and bred them both several times to everybody's satisfaction. The morning after that, the rangers give him a ride to the nearest town where he caught a bus heading in the general direction of the city. The bus was filled with monkeys who left their stink on everything, but Wulf managed to sleep most of the way, and he was with his pack brother in hours rather than the days walking would have involved.
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"How'd it go?" Grey asked, as he released his younger Brother from their embrace.
"I found a good place, and I have an agreement with the locals. We leave them alone; they leave us alone; and we have ourselves a den."
"Sounds easy enough."
"Oh, and they're lending us a sex-slave."
"A what?" Grey was clearly gob smacked. The silverback understood prey for fucking and Sealed bitches, but the idea of sex-slaves was alien to him.
"They have some arrangement with the government that lets them keep trespassing Americans as sex-slaves, if they want. The rangers told me the story, but I was more interested in fucking their hot asses than in hearing about one set of monkeys breeding another set."
"That's my alpha."
Wulf winced.
He didn't like playing the whole pack politics game—part of why he was eager to get out of the city-- but he had the requisite charisma and stature. If he had wanted to, he knew he could have pushed to oust the local alpha, and probably won. The city's current alpha knew this as well, and he was obviously uneasy having Wulf around—another reason Wulf wanted out of the city. Since he was taking the lead in this project, though, he guessed he was the de facto alpha, at least a little, at least for now.
"Since you brought up alphas and all that rank shit, have you given any thought to who out of the local pack we might take as our third?" he asked.
"I did," Grey said, "You're not going to like it, but there's really only one choice."
"Fuck, not the Bunyip."
"The Bunyip."
"But he's a wild card. I'm surprised our alpha hasn't chased him off to rogue yet."
"You know better than that. The Bunyip has zero respect for the mangy cur that runs this pack, and he would never run from him. If he stays here there's going to be a fight—an epic one--and that'll mean Brother killing Brother."
"And that would be very bad. Okay, let's put it to him. But if that boy sasses me too much, he'll learn how a real alpha treats the rankers."