Trophy Cub - 1. Owned by the Pack

Mike laid on the bed in his sparse windowless room in the pack house staring at the ceiling. There was little else to do to occupy his mind until the next time one of the pack members came to either bring him a meal or to fuck him again. Or both, most likely. Although he was the Alpha’s “pet” human, the Alpha insisted on sharing him with the rest of the male members of the pack as community property. Not that any of the pack members considered themselves to be gay, but the female wolf lycans of the pack only allowed sex during their estrus cycles, and male wolves required a more consistent outlet for sexual release. The females would not tolerate the males keeping female humans as pets for sex, but having a captive male human to service their needs didn’t “count” in their opinion. Male humans couldn’t get pregnant with half-breed pups.

It had been over a year since he first met the Alpha in a bar in the suburbs of Milwaukee and sealed his fate. Mike knew he should be grateful that they had decided to keep him around for this long. He wasn’t their first human pet and wouldn’t be the last, and his continued existence was entirely at the discretion of the Alpha. Other male pack members, after using his body for their needs, would tell him about the fates of human men who preceded him living in this small room; either their bodies were not sturdy enough to handle the rough treatment without fatal internal injuries or they just gave up and became so submissive over time that fucking them became such a bore it required them to be put down.

Sometimes in the past, one of the pack would lose control of their wolf while raping the pet and would undergo a partial shift and bite the human on the shoulder in an attempt to claim sole ownership of them. This never ended well, as the bite in combination with inseminating the human with wolf semen would initiate the process to turn the human into a lycan. Almost all wolf lycans are born and not turned, because the turning process requires a very specific genetic makeup within the human in order for the turning to be successful. Humans with these genetic markers give off a distinctive scent to wolf lycans identifying them as “kin” and would most likely not be used as a pet in the first place. Without the proper genetic “kin” markers, a human bitten and bred would either not survive their first turning at the next full moon, or they would become a half-human, half-wolf creature so grotesque and insane lycan law required that they be put down immediately. There was a time during the Dark Ages, before the laws of the Lycan Council when these half-turned monsters were allowed to run wild, and the subsequent “werewolf” legends that spread amongst the superstitious human population nearly led to the end of lycan culture altogether.

Mike was a healthy twenty-three-year-old male, and although he knew that his fate was sealed, he had learned which of his captor’s buttons to push to ensure that they did not lose interest in raping him on a daily basis but at the same time did not get so overheated that they would feel like biting him while breeding his ass.

However, Mike also knew that his situation was a bit different than the other pets who came before him. In the past, it was the job of the pack Beta or Enforcer to hunt and capture new pets, but in Mike’s case, the Alpha himself had found and stalked him.

It had been in the summer of the previous year and Mike was enjoying the scenery at his neighborhood gay bar’s “Bear Night”. Although he did occasionally go to the bar on other nights, he found the assortment of twinks competing for the few available tops not to his liking. Bear Night was when the bar really came to life and was packed wall-to-wall with Mike’s kind of man; tall, rugged, hairy, and muscular, with just enough extra padding around the middle to make the post-fuck cuddling all the more comfortable.

Mike didn’t consider himself to be up to par with the same men that he found attractive. He was short, only 5’7” with a head of blonde hair which he kept cropped into a high-and-tight military cut and a full beard that he kept trimmed sensibly close. Other than that, he was fairly smooth, with only a sparse covering of chest hair and a light dusting on his slightly rounded stomach down to a small patch above his cock. He stayed moderately fit but couldn’t stand the company of the arrogant jocks at the gym so he rarely worked out. He complained often about his shortcomings to his best friend from college and occasional fuck-buddy Sam who was a true muscle bear with his hairy chest, massive pecs, shoulders and arms, and his narrow waist. Sam would always give him a big hug and tell him over and over that someday he was going to find that Mr. Right, and when he did, Mike would be that man’s “Trophy Cub”.

It was at that Bear Night as Mike stood at the bar and scanned the assortment of bears in the room looking for that Mr. Right, he noticed a man staring in his direction from the opposite wall. He was tall, at least 6’2” maybe even 6’4” and had dark hair, heavy stubble on his chin and striking blue eyes that almost glowed in the flashing neon lights of the bar. Mike quickly glanced to his left and right to see who it was that was engaged in such serious eye contact with this stud, but he found no one else around him who could have been the man’s focus. When he looked back across the room the man locked eyes with Mike, and the angle of his brows and light in his eyes transfixed Mike in place and let him know that he was not interested in anyone else in the bar that night.

The man picked up his drink from the table against the wall and began to walk directly across the dance floor to where Mike stood at the bar. Mike felt a fluttering in his stomach and an itch at the back of his brain which wanted nothing to do with this stranger and told him to run, but as the man walked closer and Mike was able to see him even better, the feeling of lust rising from his groin overrode the brain’s instincts to flee.

The man was not like the rest of the bears in the bar that night, and although he didn’t check all the boxes on the list of Mike’s “type” he couldn’t deny that the man was insanely attractive. He wore a pair of well-worn and broken-in brown biker boots and jeans that seemed to hug every muscle in his legs and accentuate every curve of his ass and bulging groin. His waist was narrow, and he wore a thick brown leather belt with a buckle adorned with a howling wolf’s head. His chambray shirt was loose-fitting along his slim midsection but clung to his chest and shoulders in a way that strained the buttons and allowed his ample chest hair to spill over the top. He appeared to be a several years older than Mike and the predatory way he continued to stare into Mike’s eyes on the trip across the room suggested that once he reached the bar, he was either going to kick Mike’s ass or fuck it into next week. At that point, Mike didn’t even care which.

“What’s a cute little guy like you doing hiding over here by the bar?” the man said when he finally reached the spot where Mike was frozen like a statue. “You should be out there on the dance floor showing all those fat, old fags what you can do with that body of yours.”

Mike blinked twice, breaking the hypnotic spell of eye contact from the tall handsome stranger, and struggled to reply.

“I, uh, just like to come here to hang out and watch everybody, you know? I don’t like causing a big scene with my terrible dance moves,” Mike said as his face turned a deep red and he managed to get his voice working again. He sipped the last of his drink and set the empty glass down on the bar.

“Let me buy you another drink, then,” the man said, signaling the bartender with a flick of his wrist, indicating with a casual motion to bring Mike another of whatever he was already drinking.

“Uh, thanks,” Mike mumbled as the bartender slid the fresh drink in front of him. “I’m Mike. I don’t think I caught your name.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you yet,” the man replied with a smirk. “The name is Kane. My friends call me Alpha, but you can call me Daddy.”

Mike giggled at that around his drink, and replied, “OK, sure Daddy, whatever you want.”

Kane smiled at that and grabbed Mike’s shoulder, not hard enough to hurt him, but forceful enough to lead him around the end of the bar into a dark alcove hidden from the rest of the room.

“Whatever I want?” Kane asked. “Suck Daddy’s cock,” and pushed down on Mike’s shoulder until he was on his knees, eye level with the bulge in Kane’s tight jeans.

“Hey!” Mike began to protest, but Kane quickly moved both hands to the back of Mike’s head and shoved his face against his denim clad crotch to muffle any sounds of refusal.

“That wasn’t a request, pup,” the dark-haired man growled. “Unbutton my jeans and suck my cock. Now.”

Mike reached up with trembling hands and unbuckled the man’s belt, and then began popping the buttons on the fly of his jeans. He was wearing no underwear and his hard cock sprang free to hit Mike in the face once the final button was undone. Mike looked at it, and it seemed massive to him at eye level, the length of his own forearm with an angry purple head like a ripe plum. Kane’s crotch, freed from the tight denim, gave off a strong scent that was both feral and intoxicating at the same time.

“Don’t just sit there looking at it,” Kane growled, pulling the hair on top of Mike’s head backward until his jaw dropped open. “Suck my fucking dick, bitch.” With that last command, Kane forced his thick musky cock between Mike’s lips and pushed forward until he was stretching Mike’s tender throat with his bulbous cockhead.

Mike had sucked enough cocks in his life to know that he needed to control his gag reflex and relax his esophagus or else he was going to choke, so he forced his mind to calm as Kane held his head between his hands and vigorously skull-fucked him, barely pulling out far enough to allow Mike to catch a breath in between thrusts. Although he had never encountered a cock this large before, Mike tried to use his tongue on the underside of Kane’s shaft as it pistoned in and out to increase stimulation and hopefully make this experience end as quickly as possible.

His efforts were not futile, as Mike soon heard a low rumbling growl coming from Kane’s chest and he looked up to see Kane’s blue eyes dancing with a glowing fire and a wild string of drool hanging from his lower jaw as he grinned down at Mike.

“Gonna make me cum, boy,” Kane grunted as he pulled Mike’s head into his crotch one final time and unloaded a torrent of semen directly into Mike’s throat. Mike swallowed frantically to keep from choking on it all and desperately wanted to take a breath. After Kane’s thick meat twitched for the last time and began to finally soften, he let go of Mike’s head and pushed him backwards to the floor.

Mike lay panting and gasping for air, trying to regain his senses. Kane knelt and gave him a sip of the drink that he had gotten a few minutes earlier from the bartender.

“Feeling better?” Kane asked as Mike’s breathing returned to normal and he took another sip of his drink to clear his throat. “I knew you were just the thing that Daddy was looking for tonight.”

“Yeah, well it’s been fun Daddy,” Mike stammered as he stood on shaky legs and began to back away from the secluded alcove, “But I need to be heading home now. I think that was enough fun for one night.” But, as Mike turned, he ran face-first into a wall of muscle as two men, both as tall and as muscular as Kane blocked his exit.

“No, I don’t think so,” chuckled Kane as the two other men grabbed Mike by the shoulders and turned him around to face Kane again. “I think you’re going to be coming back home with us tonight. Bart, Nick, we’ve just found the pack’s new pet.”

Before Mike could shout for help a needle sank into the soft flesh at the base of his neck and the world quickly dissolved to darkness. When he woke up again, his clothes were gone, and he was in this room. Naked, with just a bed, a chair, a table and nothing else to do except stare at the ceiling and wait for the next time Kane or one of the rest of the pack required some sexual release.

The lock on the doorknob rattled, warning Mike that he was about to have a visitor. Nick walked in carrying a tray of food which Mike assumed was supposed to be his dinner. On it was a plate containing a pound of raw ground beef and a large pitcher of water. Fucking wolves. Just once Mike would appreciate having his meat cooked again.

Mike knew by now that Nick, one of the two men acting as the wall of muscle to prevent his escape from the bar that night was Kane’s “enforcer” which translated in pack hierarchy to chief of security and bodyguard. Nick was the largest and strongest in the pack and had the most volatile sexual appetite. He sat the tray of food on the table and without speaking flipped Mike onto his hands and knees on the edge of the bed.

“Hey Nick,” Mike quipped as the muscular behemoth dropped his pants and spit into his hand to slick his already hard cock. “Long day at the office? Boss been riding your ass hard again?”

The jokes had no effect on the big man as he grabbed Mike by the hips and forced his rigid pole into Mike’s anus with one aggressive thrust.

Mike held in the scream of pain as the assault on his guts began. He knew from experience what he needed to do to get Nick off quickly and worked on holding his position at just the right angle to give the man the right stimulation. Nick wasn’t the type to start slow and build a rhythm; for him it was a rapid-fire jackhammer from start till finish. Yet, Mike knew the exact moment in Nick’s sex routine to clench his ass muscles and push back against the monster to tip him over the edge to orgasm. Nick roared with his release and kept his grip on Mike’s hips until he was satisfied that the last of his load was deposited in the small human’s ass.

As Nick pushed Mike forward onto the bed and off of his softening cock, Mike squeezed the tears from his eyes and joked, “Thanks buddy, you can keep the tip.”

Nick grunted and stared at Mike for a few seconds, and then spoke the longest string of sentences that Mike had heard from him in the past year.

“You need to watch that smart mouth of yours if you expect to keep staying alive in this fucking pack, human. Just because the Alpha hunted and selected you himself to be the pack’s pet doesn’t make you immune to the consequences of pissing one of us off. You are community property. The pack owns your ass, and the pack can dispose of you anytime we see fit. You should save your pretty mouth for blowjobs and hold the wisecracks, or I just might cut the tongue out of your head. Do you understand me?”

Mike looked down and tilted his head to the side exposing his neck in submission.

“Yes, Enforcer. I understand.”

Nick grunted again, picked up Mike’s bedsheet to clean off his cock, then pulled up his pants and left the room, locking it behind him.

Mike looked at the raw meat on the tray and picked at it for a bit but really had no appetite for more than a few bites of the ground and bloody mush. He took a long drink from the pitcher of water to finish filling his stomach and then wandered over to the corner of the room containing a toilet, a showerhead extending from the ceiling and a drain in the floor. He pulled on the chain to start the flow of cold water from the showerhead and scrubbed at his skin with his hands trying to remove Nick’s scent from his body as much as possible.

Drying himself off, he laid back on his bed to stare at the ceiling again, wondering how many more of the pack would be visiting him before the night was over. For someone who was never left alone for very long each day without being assaulted and raped over and over again, he felt like the loneliest man on earth.