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    JohnAR
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

MetaDeprivation - 24. MetaPrompts 611: Task (MW8)

This scene takes place between chapter 9 and 10 of MetaWolf 8 (MW8 “Fate”), directly after ‘Bond’ (Prompt 576) and ‘Hung’ (Prompt 589).
WARNING: All MetaWarnings from 'Bond' and especially 'Hung' apply.

“Do you think we can do it again?” one of the guys asked eagerly – he sounded like the oversized cop. “I mean hosing him down when we’re all done with him. It was fun.”

‘Fun?’ Rob screamed in his head, but his shock was quickly replaced by the next horror.

“Maybe after Colt’s done with him. But now it’s your turn, Bradley, you’re doing this the first time, but don’t screw up the tattoo completely!” Prime ordered sternly.

“Sir, yes, Sir!”

Tattoo?

Rob screamed even harder. ‘Please, hose instead,’ he begged.

And then he felt it.

The pain on his shoulder.

It hurt.

It traveled to his back, down his triceps.

They marked him, like they had been marked.

He had lost the count of time. Had it been 20 minutes? 40? An hour?

“Good!” Prime commented. The other wolves complimented Bradley for his skill. They particularly liked the rainbow flag and the Tom-of-Finland-leatherman in chaps.

Rob had stopped protesting when they applied bandages over the fresh tattoos.

He had barely processed that he would be marked for the rest of his life when he suddenly felt an unusual tug at his dick and balls. Somebody was manipulating them.

Shit, he thought.

He felt plastic being moved around his base. His very scared dick being pushed brutally into a much too small enclosure. And when a little lock clicked, celebration broke out in the room.

“Now, Robbie,” Prime started alpha-like. “Now you’re one of use. Nearly.”

Rob didn’t protest anymore, he was ‘Robbie’ as of now. And ‘one of them.’

“You’re not a wolf, and the youngest of Colt’s fuck boys, so you’re our omega. – Nod if you understand.”

Rob nodded disheartened.

“Good. I hope you like cleaning toilets. We have a lot of them to clean …”

Rob nodded instinctively. He wondered whether his blindfold was wet because of the water from before or his tears.

And then he felt something changed.

The wolves were quiet.

Instinctively, Rob felt something was different.

Shit, Colt.

“He’s ready for you as ordered, Sir,” Prime reported proudly.

Colt didn’t respond.

But Bradley felt a finger. It touched his bald head, glided over his neck, his back, made a circle around his ass, before it snapped at his balls, making Rob yelp.

“Satisfactory,” Colt stated coldly like a diva.

“Thank you.”

“Has he been given enemas?”

Rob screamed into his gag.

“No, Sir. As ordered.”

“Good,” Colt commented. “If he isn’t clean, he will clean me afterward with his mouth. Will teach him a good lesson.”

Rob lifted his head to protest, but a firm palm pushed him down. “Enjoy,” the voice – CE’s – said nearly honestly.

“You can go!”

And again the mood changed. The wolves left the room, congratulating each other on a job well done. “We better close all the doors, so we can’t hear him scream!” one of them proposed. “But I want to hear him scream,” another one – the marine? – disagreed. “I hope for him he took a big shit before he went to bed,” a third one continued. There was another joke, followed by air-crushing laughter, but he couldn’t make it out anymore.

Instead, chair legs scratched next to him.

And then Colt yanked his blindfold away.

After a while Rob’s eyes adapted to the light, and he took in the realization he was indeed in a kind of dungeon. But instead of black walls, he found concrete around him, with several tools hanging on the wall he didn’t want to make acquaintance with.

He watched how Colt removed his gag. Slowly he pulled the dick out of Rob’s stretched throat. “Oh, they used the horse dick one,” he commented with amusement.

Rob wanted to scream, but first, he had to rearrange his jaws. And he was still chained with hands and feet, so any protest wouldn’t have led anywhere. He started instead: “Colt, please …”

“Yes?”

“I liked you … but I don’t want to become …”

Colt frowned before he sat down on the chair as if waiting for a doctor’s appointment. “I told you before I don’t ask the boys anymore whether they want me. Didn’t work for me when I was younger.”

“But …”

Colt rolled his eyes. “You’ve been a bad boy, Robbie.”

“I’m not ‘Robbie,’” Rob protested weakly.

“So you agree you’ve been bad?” Colt asked undisturbedly.

“How?”

“Calling Bradley names?”

Rob moved his jaw, trying to lose the muscle memory of dick in his mouth. Then he nodded.

“Making fun of him being my man?”

“Man?”

Colt got up and reached for one of the tools at the wall. A whip.

Rob quickly added. “Of course, he’s your man. Sorry.”

“Good. He isn’t my puppy, my fuck toy, my boy toy, my baseball bat holder, my catcher, my carrot sheath, …”

“Yes,” Rob agreed. He so didn’t want that whip hit his ass – or even more vulnerable body parts.

“Yes, what?” Colt asked, weighing the implement in his hand.

“Yes, Sir. I will not call Bradley any names anymore,” Rob corrected himself quickly, adding a second “Sir,” just to be safe.

“Good. And you will never ever give my other men any other disrespectful names?”

“Never, Sir. I promise. – Just please don’t beat me … or fuck me … or …”

Colt snorted. “Bradley likes you as a brother …”

“Does he?”

Colt titled his head. “You’re not his bigger brother, though. And he is in good hands. So I expect you to be respectful as of now. Because if you aren’t, I will forbid him to see you. And you know who he will obey.”

Rob let his face drop with resignation and bit of hope. “Sir, yes, Sir!”

“Good.”

“That’s it?”

Colt showed him an evil smile – a smile that could kill and freeze hell. “That’s what my boys think.”

“’Boys?’” Rob teased.

Colt was fast as well. The whip hit Rob’s ass hard, and the boy screamed. “I call them what I want. You don’t. Understood?” Colt shouted.

And for the first time, Rob truly felt why those wolves, who could have killed anyone in seconds, had so much respect for that nerd. He would get what he wanted if it meant dead bodies. “Understood, Sir,” he quickly replied trying to ignore the brutal zing on his ass.

“I hope for your balls. – Next one goes there.”

Rob yelped in anticipated fear.

“The wolves like you as well, Robbie.”

“I liked them – until …” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“You’re not wolf. And you’re not related or married to any, so Prime cannot really accept you into the pack – even if you applied. But I would be a heartless villain if I didn’t allow Bradley and all the wolves have you visit here once in a while.”

“Thank you. I guess you’re not.” Rob had to suppress what had happened in the past hours – that he had been cropped, permanently dehaired, chastity-locked and tattooed against his will. He carefully looked at the bandage covering his new body ‘art.’

“Now, for me to allow it, I’d need you to do one more thing,” Colt continued.

“No, please, don’t fuck me …”

Colt giggled. “For such a fag hag, you do have a strange fear of that,” he teased.

Rob whined.

“But I’m not going to fuck you. I have eight men who smell deliriously sexy, are hunky, wear boots, are clean, and more than willing to take all the cock I can give them; the more it hurts, the more they like it … so I don’t need scrawny, dirty, stinky, whining, civilian ass …”

Rob didn’t know whether he should feel relieved or insulted. He felt a “Thank you, Sir,” was safe in any case.

“I need you to make a little journey for me …” Colt nodded. “Yes, I need you to fly to Poland and check certain things for me. All of this will be in the file I’ll email you. I’ll pay all your expenses.”

“Okay. – I guess for me to ever get out of this dungeon, I should better not ask why me …”

Colt nodded. “Indeed. Seems you’re not only a pretty pussy licker …”

Rob smiled for a second.

“You will report only back to me. And if you mention anything to any of my wolves, I will have you back here; and next time I will have rubber gloves with spikes on me to rip your intestines into pieces … is that clear?” Colt threatened.

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Then we have an understanding. Welcome to the Inner Circle & Friends, Rob. The boys will be happy to have you,” Colt got up.

“But why …?” Rob whined.

Colt rolled his eyes.

And ripped away the bandages.

Rob screamed.

“Henna tattoo … will be gone in some days,” Colt stated.

“The permanent …”

“Not permanent,” Colt corrected. “And your girlie blond locks will also grow back …”

A sigh left Rob as if half of the Rockies had crumbled. “Good. But it felt so …”

“They spiked your drink so touch would feel more intense …”

“Ah,” Rob understood.

“Well. Remember our deal. I’ll ask Bradley now to untie you,” Colt got up to leave.

“You really love them.” Rob didn’t know where that had come from. Envy?

Colt stopped at the door, turned around. “I do. And I have killed to protect them. And I will do it again.” It wasn’t a threat, it wasn’t drama. Just stating the truth of the universe.

Rob nodded.

“Boys!” Colt shouted into the halls.

Voices.

“Untie Rob and get him out of the Brig! Wasn’t planned for your little frat games!”

“Yes, Sir.” Bradley was first.

Rob smiled.

“Who has the key to the chastity cage?” Bradley suddenly asked.

“Not me,” Colt stated the obvious.

“Not me,” Prime added.

And all the other wolves.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it off before you leave for the East Coast in some weeks,” Bradley teased Rob while he unlocked one of the restraints.

And it was only the innocent smile on Bradley’s face that made Rob realize they were still mind-fucking with him. He wanted to say something like: “Simply because you like being the girl …,’ but stopped knowing Colt could still hear him. “Thanks, Bradley.”

“You knew Colt would never touch any other ass anymore,” Bradley asked friendly.

“Of course,” Rob lied, stretching his limbs. Wondering what in Poland was so dangerous for the wolves that Colt couldn’t let them know. And whether he could deal with that …

He nearly missed Sam giving him a little welcome gift: a T-shirt.

Copyright © 2017 JohnAR; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Does the WWP industries have a t-shirt making business that just makes Sam his shirts?  And does he ever re-wear them?  

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So Rob is finally out of the Brig and almost intact. Although, maybe Colt is onto something. Maybe Rob should experiment a little. 

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