Trophy Cub - 6. The Silver Bullet

Kane and Nick stood looking down at Mike as he sat on his bed with his head down, waiting instructions. Mike had been told earlier that day that his “reward” for besting Nick in the game of chase was to be his first field trip outside of the pack compound.

All afternoon either Kane or Nick or both at the same time were in his room, going over the rules and conditions with him again and again. The more information Mike received about what was to happen later that night, the less he was looking forward to it.

“You will not be seeing any other humans on this trip, only lycans. These lycans will not give a shit that you are a slave to this pack and will have no sympathy for you. You are nothing more than a receptacle to any of them, so you can save any pleas for help.”

“If any lycan wishes to fuck you, you are to allow them access to your body with a smile on your face and you will give them an enjoyable experience.”

“If any lycan asks you how you feel about being this pack’s pet, you will tell them that you love your life here and would not trade it for anything. If you do not, you may be sold to a pack who does not treat you with the kind of respect you get here, and you would most likely not survive a week.”

“If any lycan states that he needs to take a piss in your presence, that is your cue to fall on your knees and open your mouth for the gift you are about to receive.”

The list of rules went on in that vein for hours, keeping the dozens of potential perversions that Mike was to cheerfully perform drummed into his brain, while also eliminating any hope of help or rescue while among strangers. To Mike, it seemed that it would just be more of the same of his daily existence, just a new venue and a new batch of lycans to serve.

Now, with the preparatory lessons at an end, it was nearly time to depart.

“We can’t take him in those awful sweatpants and sweatshirt, but we can’t risk transporting him completely nude either. What options do we have?” Kane said dryly, turning to Nick for suggestions.

“We do have the fetish outfit that was custom made for the previous pet when we were trying to spice things up with his boring and submissive ass,” Nick replied. “It didn’t do him any good, but at least we can finally put the outfit to good use. I think they’re probably about the same size. It’s so hard to tell with humans.”

“Perfect,” Kane said. “Go fetch it now and have him dressed and ready to go in ten minutes. I will go bring my SUV around from the garage and be waiting at the side door.”

Both wolves left Mike’s room in a hurry, but Nick was back less than a minute later with a set of leather clothing straight out of somebody’s twisted BDSM fantasy. The outfit consisted of a pair of combat boots, a pair of extremely short leather shorts with a zipper that went all the way around from front to back and could be unzipped from either side for easy access to either his cock or his ass, a bulldog-style harness, leather bar vest, and a black leather hood that laced up the back for a snug fit.

“Why are you still wearing those filthy rags?” Nick snapped, finding Mike still sitting on the bed. “I thought we made it clear that you would not be wearing those tonight. Strip and put this outfit on now and be ready to leave in five minutes.”

Nick threw the leathers at Mike’s feet, and then sat on the chair glaring at Mike for not moving quickly enough.

Mike pulled on the shorts first, which were snug, but not so tight that he didn’t have freedom of movement. He stared at the harness for a minute trying to distinguish the front from the back until Nick growled impatiently, and Mike decided that it didn’t really matter. After buckling the harness in place, he quickly put on the vest and then sat to lace up the boots.

The only item left was the hood. Mike put it over his head, wincing as it pressed against his still painful nose, and then awkwardly fumbled with the laces in the back, trying to feel his way around with his hands.

Nick rolled his eyes and snarled, “I’ll do it, worthless human,” and stood to roughly tighten the laces and tie them in place at the back of Mike’s neck.

“Time to go,” Nick said as soon as the hood was in place. “The Alpha will be waiting for us by now,” and grabbed Mike by the shoulder to lead him out of the room.

Although he had the leather hood over his head, Mike realized that for the first time, he was being led from his room in a hood with actual eye holes so he could see his environment as they went through the halls. He had been led to and from his room so many times during the weeks when he was taken outside each day that he could have navigated himself with his eyes closed, but seeing the interior of the pack house for himself was a different experience. The sub-basement level where Mike lived was painted a sterile white with speckled linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting. They passed several dozen locked doors each bearing a plate to the side with such glamorous names as “Storage Closet SB-37” and “Laundry Room 4C”. Mike wished that he had been paying attention to see what the plate next to the door to his tiny room had said.

They walked up a stairwell, and the hallways on the next level were a painted in a warm cream color with office-grade beige carpeting. The lighting was the same, but each of the doors had a window looking out onto the hallway and the doorplates now stated things like “Accounts Receivable”, “Project Management Office”, and Mike’s favorite, “Whelping Center”.

Reaching the end of the basement-level hallways, they continued up what Mike knew was the final set of stairs and he stifled his gasp when they exited the stairwell into an elegant foyer with marble floors, oriental rugs, crystal chandeliers, vases of fresh flowers, and tastefully upholstered chairs arranged in small seating groups around a massive fireplace with a roaring fire.

A pair of well-dressed female wolves were sitting in two of the chairs by the fireplace sipping tea from china cups and having a private conversation as Nick stormed through the foyer, pushing the leather-clad Mike in front of him. The females looked shocked for a few seconds and then their expressions turned to one of disgust as Nick led Mike toward a set of glass double-doors opening to the east side patio and grassy fields that Mike knew so well.

“Males are so revolting,” Mike heard one of the females say after they had passed. “This… this is why the pack can’t have nice things.”

They exited the house to find Kane pulled up right outside the door on the patio with an impatient look on his face. Nick opened the driver’s side rear door, and roughly shoved Mike into the backseat of the SUV.

“Nighty-night, bitch,” Nick said with a touch of amusement in his voice and sunk a needle into the base of Mike’s neck. Mike felt himself tumbling sideways onto the backseat as his vision blurred and then turned black.

****

“Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey,” Mike heard faintly, as a hand repeatedly slapped against his cheek.

He opened his eyes into a squint, blinded by the dome light of the SUV, as Nick pulled him from the backseat by his arm and threw him over his shoulder.

Kane, Nick, and the semi-conscious Mike made their way through the parking lot toward a dirty, wooden, windowless building. It was completely nondescript except for the words “Silver Bullet” sloppily hand-painted in red over the door.

As they approached, a man seated on a stool in front of the door stood up… and up, and up. He was over seven feet tall, and his broad shoulders gave the illusion that he was nearly that wide as well. A braided ponytail hung down his back, a tangled beard hung down to his chest, and the entirety of his arms and massive torso was one solid tattoo starting at his neck and disappearing into the waistband of his leather pants.

“Hold up there, Scooby-doo,” the doorman said to Kane holding his hand out in front of him to force the trio to a halt. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but his type isn’t welcome at the Silver Bullet,” pointing at the limp leather bundle of Mike hanging over Nick’s shoulder.

Kane let out an indignant snort, and replied, “First of all, that’s ‘Alpha Kane’ to you, not ‘Scooby-doo’ … Hair Bear.”

Nick snorted at Kane’s quick 1970’s Saturday morning cartoon comeback.

“Second, there are no human customers allowed in the Silver Bullet, but this human is not a customer, he’s tonight’s entertainment.”

The big Kodiak werebear stared back at them for a few seconds and then leaned in close to get a good whiff of Mike’s scent. He frowned briefly, pondering Mike’s unique aroma, and then finally nodded his approval.

“Fine. Take him straight through to the backroom and get him ready. It’s going to be a busy night, and if you or that thing give me any fucking trouble tonight, you’re out of here. Alpha or not.”

Kane and Nick walked through the doorway and entered the club. The interior was lit with red lighting and it was already half-filled with male lycans. Some were standing at the bar having a drink or smoke, and some were already naked, bent over chairs, or sprawled on their back on the pool tables, taking on one, two, or three other male wolves at a time.

Kane’s nose wrinkled at the mixed scents of unwashed lycans and sex and strode directly through the main area toward the backroom which was separated from the rest of the interior by a set of black curtains and a small neon sign over the doorway flashing the words “Cum Bucket”.

Kane held the curtain to the side for Nick as they entered the backroom. It was completely dark inside, except for a narrow spotlight in the middle of the room, pointing straight down from the ceiling onto a leather sling.

“That looks like a good spot for our boy,” Nick quipped as he flung Mike off his shoulder and onto his back in the sling. “With that spotlight shining in his eyes all night, he isn’t going to know who is fucking his ass and who is cumming or pissing on him.”

“There are wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the chains of the sling,” Kane observed. “Make sure that he’s properly restrained.”

Nick buckled each of Mike’s wrists into a cuff, and then buckled the ankle cuffs tightly around Mike’s combat boots. There was no way he was getting out of that sling tonight on his own, no matter how intense the action. As the final step, Nick reached under Mike’s ass and grabbed the tab of the back zipper on the leather shorts, pulling it down and open to expose Mike’s raw puckered hole.

“Open for business,” Nick quipped with a nod to Kane.

Kane gave Nick a wink in return. “Wait here in the shadows,” he said. “I’m going to go invite the others to the party.”

Nick backed into the corner of the room as Kane exited through the curtain.

“Brother wolves!” Kane shouted in his commanding Alpha voice to the clientele of the Silver Bullet. “Tonight, I, Alpha Kane have brought you a special prize. A delicious treat that most of you have never before tasted. Once you have spread your seed within the body of a human male, lycan ass will never be the same again. He waits for you in the backroom and will comply with any of your desires!”

Kane held the curtain open, grinning like a lycan P.T. Barnum as first the wolves who were gathered drinking by the bar dropped their cigarettes and wandered through the doorway following the scent of male human, and then even some of the wolves who were actively engaged in sex with others on the pool tables left their unsatisfied bottoms writhing in frustration as they too followed the intoxicating human scent drifting from the darkened backroom.

Mike struggled to regain full consciousness as a bright light shone directly in his eyes from above, and many strange hands suddenly began rubbing all over his body. He couldn’t see their faces as they caressed his legs, rubbed his stomach, fondled his crotch, and twisted his nipples. Although the hood cut off part of his peripheral vision, he caught glimpses of many men all around him jerking themselves off with one hand as the other hand sought to caress him somewhere, anywhere they could find room to touch.

Someone began rimming his ass, and Mike leaned his head back and moaned. This was more foreplay than he’d received since he’d been taken by the pack. As long as this crowd keeps themselves under control, Mike thought to himself, this might not be so bad.

Mike immediately knew that he had jinxed himself when the wolf masturbating near his head suddenly grabbed him by the hood and yanked his head backwards forcing his cock through the mouth hole of the mask and down Mike’s throat. Apparently, even wolves who were exploring their homosexual sides felt the need to dominate those who were smaller and weaker, especially if they were dominating a smaller and weaker and creamy smooth human.

As Mike struggled with the invader at his mouth pulling his head back to a dangerous angle and stretching his esophagus with every thrust, the wolf who was so tenderly licking his asshole a minute earlier forced his massive tool into Mike’s ass and grabbed Mike by the harness to pull him into each pump of his hips.

A line formed at each end of Mike; wolves frantically jerking their cocks as they drooled and waited their turn. Hands that had so tenderly caressed Mike at the beginning were now claws that raked and scratched at his skin, drawing drops of blood and then licking them away with eager tongues.

The wolves currently at either end of Mike reached their climax at the same time, howling and pulling Mike in opposite directions as they desperately filled him with their hot semen. The wolf in Mike’s ass was roughly pushed away by the next in line, and as the new lycan began his thrusting, the next wolf at Mike’s head grabbed him by the hood and looked him in the eyes.

“I have to piss, boy,” the lycan said, “Do you want it in your mouth or on your chest?”

Mike knew from the instructions that he was given earlier that night in his room that he was supposed to open his mouth and take it from whoever wanted to give it, but at that moment, from somewhere outside of the dark room, a loud masculine voice yelled, “Hey buddy, one more large yellow beer please!”

Mike heard this strangely worded request while staring back up at the shadowed face of the lycan who wanted to piss on him, and the situation was so absurd that it caused him to start giggling. The wolf at his head let go of his leather hood and gave him a confused look as the giggles turned into a belly-laugh, and the laugh progressed into an unhinged cackle. Tears streamed down Mike’s cheeks underneath the leather hood and the unsettled wolf forfeited his position and ran from the backroom. Another wolf quickly moved up in his place, and Mike’s insane laughter was soon muffled by another cock jammed down his throat.

In the darkened corner of the backroom, Nick watched every bit of the action with rapt attention. He had opened his jeans as soon as the first wolf had violated Mike and was slowly stroking his hard cock as one wolf after another took Mike from either end. Nick felt a warm body press up against his back, and then recognized Kane’s strong hands and arms wrapping around him in a sensual embrace.

“Have you missed this?” Kane whispered into Nick’s ear, and Nick nodded with a shudder.

Kane slid his hands down to the waistband of Nick’s already loosened jeans and pushed them the rest of the way down to the floor. Nick moaned and stepped out of his jeans, shedding his shirt as well, as Kane’s hands ran over his muscular chest.

“Do you want it, Nick?” Kane asked softly, unbuckling his jeans and pulling his cock out of his pants. “Is this what you’ve been after all this time?”

Nick moaned again and nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,” Kane whispered into Nick’s ear, giving it a small lick. “Say it, Nick.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Nick whined. “Please, Alpha, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

Kane pushed on Nick’s shoulder with his hand to bend him forward as he lined up the head of his cock with Nick’s twitching hole.

“Granted,” Kane said. “A good Alpha always takes care of his pack,” and he pressed forward impaling Nick with his cock, making the wolf howl loudly in their dark corner.

Nick’s howl was lost in the cacophony of groans, grunts and cries of ecstasy as more and more wolves arrived for a night at the Silver Bullet and followed the enticing scents of sex and fear to the backroom where the sweetest male human whore they’d ever seen waited for them under the spotlight.

****

Gunnar pulled his Jeep into a parking lot nearly filled with cars and trucks surrounding a squat, windowless, wooden building with “Silver Bullet” painted in sloppy freehand over the door.

“This is the big, bad lycan sex club the She-Wolves were so worried about?” he wondered out loud. “It just looks like a half-assed attempt at a dive bar to me.”

He got out of his Jeep, locked the doors, and then began weaving his way through the haphazardly parked cars toward the door. When he got within ten feet from the entrance, the doorman stood, all seven feet of him, and Gunnar broke out into a huge grin, happy to see another werebear again after so many weeks.

“Hey, bear brother!” Gunnar exclaimed holding his hand out so that he could clasp the other by the forearm in the traditional werebear greeting.

The tall Kodiak just looked down with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face until Gunnar finally awkwardly dropped his hand to his side.

“What the fuck do you want, Yogi?” the doorman said with the same scowl on his face.

“Uh, the name’s actually Gunnar. I’d heard this was the only gay lycan nightlife around these parts and thought I’d stop in for a while to see some friendly faces.”

“Oh, well if you’re looking for some ‘friendly faces,’” the big Kodiak said in a mock-cheerful voice, “What you want to do, is turn around in that westerly direction you just came from and go about two thousand miles until you get to Salt Lake City. The happy-go-fucking-lucky Mormons should be right up your alley.

“The Silver Bullet doesn’t have any ‘friendly faces’ Yogi. Only a bunch of horny and perverted wolves looking to suck each other’s cocks and fuck each other in the ass. Nobody needs a Grizzly dick swinging around in there fucking up the mojo, so get lost.”

“Look, I don’t want to cause a bunch of trouble,” Gunnar said, determined to talk his way inside. “I’ll keep my dick in my pants, I promise. I just want to go to the bar and have a beer, OK?”

The Kodiak glared at Gunnar but didn’t respond.

“Come on, you’re not going to leave a bear out here in the cold dying of thirst, are you?” Gunnar begged, looking up at the taller bear with his best fake puppy dog eyes, “Give a brother a break.”

The doorman finally rolled his eyes and said, “Fuck it, go on in. Probably my second stupid mistake of the night, but if it’ll get you out of my fucking hair, then I don’t give a shit.”

“Thanks buddy,” Gunnar said, walking past the Kodiak to the doorway, “I knew you were a brother. The name’s Gunnar by the way. Good to meet ‘ya.”

Just as Gunnar was reaching for the door handle, the Kodiak reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Just drink your beer and stay the fuck out of the backroom. I’m telling you this for your own good, Yogi.”

Gunnar yanked his arm out of the Kodiak’s grip and growled, “That’s ‘Gunnar’ to you, not ‘Yogi’ … Hair Bear,” and he pushed the door open and stomped inside.