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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 - 19. MetaPrompts 600: Cell (MW8)

This scene takes place after MetaWolf 8 (MW8 “Fate”).

WARNING: All METAWARNINGS apply, especially when it comes to DI insults and gingerism.

“You fucking moron of a coppermob. Your idiot of dad was too stupid to wear a rubber.” The deep voice made the earth quake.

He was awake instantly. A wolf with the scent of an über-enforcer approached quickly. Instinctively, he jumped up.

But regretted it. His head exploded, the room started to dance like in a tornado. A rat seemed to have shat in his mouth. He lost his balance and fell back onto his bed.

Except it wasn’t his bed. It was a bunk with the nothing of a mattress, the absence of a blanket, and the pitiful excuse of a pillow as comfortable as if filled with bullet casings. His wolf made him stand up again. And slowly some painful memories returned.

He was in Germany.

“You ungrateful vampire whore slime of a carrot bush,” came next.

And then Max stood in front of him. Kind of in front. Separated by bars.

Forest wanted to grab those bars, but the big dark-skinned guy just barked: “Fucking touch them and burn your fish-stinking cheese-colored clit-ticklers forever! There’re no fucking pink hair ribbons on them.” He barked so intensively, the young wolf had to take a step back to escape the Alpha’s wrath.

And to hold his head trying to contain the pain. He saw he had lost one of his diamond cufflinks. A gift from Colt. Ohoh, that was bad.

“I hope your ugly pink tomato dickhead explodes blasting the red horse shit you call a brain all over the place; …”

“Could you please …”

“No!” Max barked.

Only now Forest noted that Max only wore boxer briefs and boots. The boots weren’t laced, and there were no socks. It was obvious Max had been called out of bed surprisingly. Forest made a step back, he balled his fists as if communicating with his wolf to heal his hangover headache, but for some reason, his wolf had the same opinion as Max: ‘Fuck you.’

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Max shouted. “I fucking should send your balls back to California, so you learn to fucking think with that red firetop you have instead of your shriveled excuse of a dick. And then I will rip your girly asshole apart, so you have to use the bathtub to take a shit.”

“What …” But Forest didn’t get any further.

“Trashing a complete bar in Frankfurt? With a dozen of people around?”

“Did I?”

Max barked. “Fucking shut up, your worthless piece of rabies dog shit. And then unfuck yourself, you pussy carrot.”

“Do …” Forest tried to start defending himself but to no avail.

“Shut your fucking faggot-pink cunt-licking cunt …”

And this did shut Forest up. He had never seen Max like this. He seemed to have screwed up. Again. Badly.

He tried to remember.

Slowly things returned to him.

It was the start of his second semester in Frankfurt. He had spent most of the winter break traveling through Europe. In his new finance class he had met this generously-shaped blond girl from Sweden. But she had ignored him. She declined his invite for a date because she had a boyfriend she said. He remembered how angry he was about the fact she had men before him.

He was so furious he went out drinking directly after uni was over this Friday. And now … he looked at his watch – a gift from Brian. It told him it was barely after midnight.

He had no recollection what had happened in that time. But obviously, he had trashed a bar. Otherwise, Max wouldn’t be so furious.

“I’ve had it with you, you spoilt mutt of a future alpha.” Max found a piece of paper and threw it into the cell. “I booked a fucking flight back to the fucking West Coast for you. Obviously, you can only be kept in a forest without civilization, you useless pencil head. And I’m personally going to butt fuck you onto this plane.”

Slowly Forest bent down, trying to ignore his head, to pick up the piece of paper. And indeed, there was a flight in two days from FRA to LAX. “Max,” he tried. The thought of Max butt fucking him anywhere wasn’t a pleasant one. Not because of Max’ size, but about what Andreas would do to him afterward.

“Shut the fuck up. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to keep the police out of this? How much it cost me to make the videotapes disappear? To make the bar owner shut up?”

Forest shook his head.

“If you didn’t have your fucking rich fucking White Wolf companies you would fucking clean our fucking toilets with your clit-licker until the end of your fucking miserable ginger excuse of a life.”

Forest fell to sit on his ‘bed.’ “Did anyone get hurt?” he asked.

Max wanted to start another tirade along ginger-insulting mutt-calling but stopped. “Not severely. Couple of bloody hand prints because you split a guy’s lip. He’s on a plane to the Seychelles for an all-paid 14-days’ vacation. The fucking bill for which I will send to your Alpha.” Max seemed to calm down.

“Don’t!” Forest said. Unfortunately.

“Fucking what? If you dare to threaten me once more, I’m gonna stick my feet up both of your strawberry-asses and wear you around like a couple of gay ginger Sesame Street puppets.”

Forest was stunned for a second and then giggled. Regretting it because of his head, but he giggled.

Max just barked. “You’re more disappointing than a vibrator without Duracell batteries … and you basically look like batteries.”

Forest sensed Max was calming down again. “I guess I seriously fucked up.”

“Yep; you didn’t suck my dick, but blew my mind.”

“Does the Bundeswehr teach you all those colorful insults?” Forest asked.

“No. They come spontaneously to me when I see your ugly face that looks like my asshole after a bad Mexican clean-up.”

“Does Andreas know that?” Forest dared to respond.

Max opened his mouth to start the next barrage of insults but stopped. “No.”

“So I better not tell him,” Forest teased.

“Well after I’m done talking with your lovely uncle tomorrow, you won’t be talking to him for a long time …”

Forest nodded. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”

“What? I’m not ‘Sorry Alpha,’ you’re a sorry pup.”

“I know. It’s a blur.”

“Not my problem anymore. You’ll be CE’s problem. At least they could have sent you slime ball to the sissy marines.”

Forest growled. Not threateningly, but not pleased. He had had that conversation with Prime. He didn’t want to have it again. “What can I do to fix this?” he asked. He got up, straightened, himself, clenched his teeth to suppress the headache and repeated: “I’ll do anything to fix this. But please don’t send me back, I respectfully ask you to give me a chance to fix this.”

Max nodded. “At least now you act like the sperm of a man, instead of the pussy. I go to sleep now. Maybe Andreas is still awake and I can get some action. If not, you’ll be sorry tomorrow. I see you at 07hundred for punishment duty.” Max opened the door to the cell carefully. “For every minute you’re late I’m going to boot my boot so high up your ass, Colt is going to be jealous of me.”

“Understood.”

“There’re some pills in your room, help you sleep. And some really greasy pizza.”

“Thank you, Alpha.” Forest dropped his head respectfully while he passed the tall, angry man, whose skin glistered in the semi-dark. And then he left.

Before he could close the door to the ‘Gefängnis’ of the Feldberg Pack, Max shouted: “And who is she?”

“Who?” Forest asked in confusion.

Max closed up huffing and puffing. “I might be a fucking ass bandit, but I know there’s only one reason an alpha pup goes berserk like this.”

Forest nodded. It felt oddly good to be understood. And he whispered: “Malin.”

“Good. – When you’re done licking all of our floors clean, we’ll see how we can get that Malin to fall for an ugly pencil-dicked carrot top like you, you dimwit.”

Forest smiled, nodded goodbye and left.

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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Well, if a fucking stupid brat can't keep from fucking outing himself and all the rest in a bout of fucking childish anger, then Max is right to get DI on his  fucking ass.

 

Although, amazing Swedish women named Malin are very hard to let go... ;)

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