Lycan Life

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by Breukelen Girl




  Lycan Life

  By Breukelen Girl

  A Werewolf in Brooklyn Blog Zine

  Smashwords edition

  © Copyright 2015

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book is for a mature audience. It contains violent and sexual content. By downloading this book, and reading this book and, you consent to being of legal age for such material.

  This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download from A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn blog.

  Writing takes time and effort and Breukelen Girl goes to a lot of it for your reading enjoyment.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  You can find more of BG’s free writing on her blog “A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn”

  You can find a free podcast series Red, White and Werewolf available on ITunes, Stitcher Radio and Talk Shoe

  1

  Waking up a lycan is like waking up in a different world.

  It seems so easy too, to become one, although everyone is assuring me, doctors and people with good intentions that I’m lucky to be alive. But I don’t feel lucky, I don’t feel that way at all. But the alive thing, yeah I feel that, very much.

  “Hi Booker,”

  I look over at the petite female who’s walked into my hospital room. Black hair, soulful brown eyes, and a slim build. Today she’s wearing jeans. I think this is the first time she’s worn jeans around me. I try to remember but my head feels fuzzy. I frown. I like her in her skirts and dresses. I can smell the fur on her, even though she looks human, altogether too human. Her name is Cady, but everyone calls her “Bg”, some sort of nickname. She hasn’t explained it to me. I should probably ask her about it. But I kind of feel like she should just tell me. I’m irritated but looking at her makes me horny.

  She smells so damn good. Perfume laced with fur. And her skin, have I mentioned her skin?

  When I first woke up and there she was, hovering over me. I’ll admit it, I kind of panicked. Yeah, it’s weird, me, a guy who could give any quarterback a run for their money, freaked out over seeing her. But I’d been out of this world for over a week and last thing I remembered, wasn’t her. So I grabbed her wrist and then I didn’t want to let go. At all. She tried to not show that I was hurting her, Bg did pretty good too. I almost didn’t care.

  I liked touching her. I felt something inside me unfurl and I stared at her hard. My body went hard. I’ve never had that reaction to a female before. Not so quickly as I did when I laid eyes on Bg. She was trying to tell me something, I was watching her mouth move and wondering what her lips would taste like. And the whole time, I gripped her wrist, my thumb stroking that soft sensitive spot, like an old comfort and a new vice.

  She makes me want her without even trying. How is that even possible? I don’t even know her. I barely know her name. I’ve already hurt her, I can see the bruises from her wrist are fading, I don’t know my own strength now that I’m not me. Now that I’ve got this lycanthropy in me.

  “Hey,” I reply try to get the haze of lusting her from my senses. It’s a hard thing to do. Especially when she looks so damn cute and I haven’t had sex in a month. Maybe that’s it. I’m just jonesing for some pussy. Must be. Not that it feels like that at all.

  “Ready to go?” Bg asks me and looks at me, all wide eyed and beautifully intriguing. Damn her for wearing that chequered button shirt. I want to rip it open and put her breasts in my hands and she’s not even particularly filled out.

  I nod my head as I feel like talking to her is dangerous. Like I’ll just come off like some bumbling idiot with a crush. See it’s weird, it feels like there’s two sides to me now. Like two brains overlapping trying to compete for dominance inside me while outside, I look the same, a little scared up because of the werewolf attack on me. Although technically Bg’s told me, it could’ve been lycans that attacked me and apparently they’re considered different to actual werewolves who actually exist. That itself is hard enough to wrap my head around.

  This lycanthropy infection, apparently it can’t be gotten rid of once it’s in your system. Once it’s in you, you are for all intents and purposes, a lycan, a wolf. The lesser werewolf, the watered down and despised version apparently. I can tell, the looks I’ve received from others who have floated in and out of my hospital room pretty much tell me all I think I need to know.

  Even the older female werewolf, Bg’s sister I think. But she doesn’t talk to me, none of the others talk to me. Just Bg. They all just came in and did their duty or something, taking shifts watching over the human who’d been attacked by the paranormal wolves and left to die in the streets of New York City.

  Seventeen and I thought I owned this world. Now I’m not so sure.

  I follow Bg out of the room and think to myself, that it’s brave of her, or foolish to walk in front of me with her back to me. That other part of me, the part that’s competing with regular me, the lycan inside, it lusts after this female. It wants me to push her up against a wall, pull that skirt up, pull her panties down, push my cock into her and fuck her from behind. I look away at the hospital doorway as I pass through it instead.

  How the hell am I going to survive this new me if I can’t even get the lust under control? I don’t even understand, why I fancy her so much. I don’t feel like I’m in control around Bg. But I feel calmer when the other werewolves are around. They don’t stir me up like she does. I didn’t t feel anything like this when I laid eyes on the older werewolf female. Bodil. She was all grown up curves, tits and ass and beauty to capture me and I got nothing from my body for her. She could’ve been wallpaper for all my lycan side cared.

  I’d ask myself what the hell is wrong with me, but I know the answer, Bg gave it to me. Told me when I gained consciousness about everything. Simply put. And you know the weird thing, I believed her, immediately, without hesitation, without reservation but full of fear and anger. See how weird this lycan thing is?

  We go into the room next to mine and find another werewolf, a male Bg calls Markus. They confer for a moment and I look at my younger brother, Elisandro. Jeez he looks bad, I wonder if I look like that. Bruising is deep on him, half his face is a swollen lump. Graze marks, like he was dragged behind something, run down his neck and arm. It looks painful.

  “Hooper,” I say to him. Elisandro’s blood shot eyes look me over and over and over. Bg told me, the veins in his eyes burst at one point, and they thought he was going to be blind. But the lycanthropy, when you’re infected with it, it’s like a fight and eventually it wins. And when it wins, it settles in and starts fixing things about your body, small things at first. Like burst blood vessels, smell, hearing, that kind of thing. Subtle so you don’t really get it at first, what s happened to you.

  “You look rough.” He smirks.

  “And you look so pretty.” I fire back at him.

  “Do you trust them?” He asks me nodding his head at Bg and Markus who appear to be talking in very low voices before stepping out into the corridor again, leaving us alone.

  “I trust her. Something about her says she’s honest, if anything. Maybe naive, but she’s not holding back anything. The other guy? I don’t know. He’s reserved, like the others I’ve seen. But I think they’re our best shot of figuring out what the hell happened to us, and of not paying for this damn hospital stay over.”

  “Jesus, we’ve been in here over a week. What about mom?” And as Elisandro says that I realise, we never went home. How could we? We were attacked, torn up and left for dead in some back streets of Brooklyn before being taken to a hospital. Bg and these werewolves have been overseeing our condition ever since. “Mom doesn’t know where we are, or what s happe
ned to us. Shit. We just came to watch some sport and then this happened.”

  I walk outside into the corridor, Markus is on a cell phone and Bg turns to face me. I feel something in my chest tighten. I want to pull her in against me, feel her breasts press into my chest and push my lips against hers. Slide my tongue into that mouth of hers.

  “Booker,” Bg says walking over to me. “We’ll take you back to my family home in Williamsburg, you’ll meet the alpha of the Breukelen werewolf pack and,”

  “I need to call my mom.” I cut her off and then immediately want to apologize for talking over the top of her. But I don’t.

  “Right. Your mom.” She says slowly and hesitantly. She looks little compared to me. But I know how deceptive her looks are.

  “She doesn’t know what happened to Hooper and me. She’ll be out of her mind with worry. I don’t want her to think we ran away or worse, are dead. All she knows is we left to go out one night and never came home.”

  She looks at me and closes that mouth. The mouth I like watching, the mouth I want open to receive my tongue deep in her throat. Red lips clamp down together. The lips I want to lick and bite between my teeth. I look away because I can feel myself getting to aroused and I need to be clear headed from here on out. I have to look after my brother and me.

  “Of course.” Bg blurts out quickly and I look back at her.

  I wonder if she feels it too. Like I do around her. Is it the same for her around me? Does this continual lust, heightened sensation thing, go two ways? Will she go to bed tonight and masturbate herself to sleep, thinking about me, like I can’t stop thinking about her? Will she be a bad girl and come biting that bottom lip to stop from crying out my name as her fingers bring her pleasure while she imagines it’s my cock?

  2

  Day two of my lycan life and I awake in a strange place, again. It’s too early in the damn morning. I can hear birds outside chirping like I’m stuck in some Disney cartoon. “Shut up.” I turn to my side and my cock proves uncomfortable. It’s hard and I want very badly to fuck someone. It’s not like I ever had tonnes of sex before, but I could get some and once I figured that out, it became like number one thing to do on my radar of my teenage life.

  I need some sex, that’s what I tell myself and the lycan in me agrees. My hand slips down to it and I start moving my palm back and forth, alternating the pressure of my grip as I sigh. I keep my eyes closed and focus on the sensation of jerking myself off. How bad would it be if I came all over this bed sheet? I don’t think I care. Why should I? It’s not my bed.

  I’ve never been this damn horny in my entire life. Flashes of the attack appear in my mind and my cock begins to soften in my hand. I drop my hand off and hit the mattress in frustration and open my eyes.

  The darkened bedroom is still and unfamiliar to me. But it looks like a male’s room. There are sports posters on the wall and a few bikini clad sports illustrated women. The usual mix you’d find in an all American male teenagers room. I try to focus on the sports illustrated model in her wet, white bikini looking back at me.

  “Come on,” My hand resumes its position on my cock and I focus on her tits. They’re very symmetrical and her hard nipples are showing through the wet, white material. My cock twitches to life and I focus on those nipples looking hard, like they want to burst through the tease of white that is over them. Bg’s nipples hardened once. I’m pretty sure I remember that correctly. I wasn’t having one of my out of it moments, with the lycanthropy. Like when I grabbed her wrist, in that hospital room.

  I keep thinking about that and my cock gets hard very fast. Imagining her hardened nipples running along the shaft of my cock, teasing the veins in it. The tips of her black hair brushing the tops of my thighs.

  “Oh fuck, yes.” I pick up the speed on my cock and close my eyes again. But instead of the model in the wet bikini I’m seeing an older Bg, wet and without the bikini. Before I can even think to stop myself I come hard, my semen wetting the bed sheet unevenly. I find myself panting trying to catch my breath and reminding myself to relax as I settle heavily back into the mattress under me again.

  Day two of my new life as a lycan and I’m screwed. So very fucking screwed and I fucking know it. It’s Bg, She’s screwed me for anyone else. I am so fucking screwed. I’m hung up on a werewolf I can’t fucking touch and for some stupid animal reason or other, the lycan in me won’t let her go.

  Day two as a lycan and I know exactly what I want out of this new life. I want her. Day two of my lycan life and now I know exactly where I stand in this world. Wherever she is. I have to be where she is, the thought enters my head with a certainty I’ve never felt before. Everything else is just background noise.

  I know whatever comes next, if Bg says to do it, that I will. And that’s how I’m going to screw myself. For a woman. Not just any woman. A werewolf.

  3

  Seven days into this new phase of my life and I think I’ve got a grip on the hold Bg has over me. At least I allow myself to be fooled into thinking that. I’ve been escorted around with her older siblings and therefore not had much contact with her since coming out of the hospital. The werewolf in charge of them all, the pack leader, is still trying to figure out what to do with Hooper and me.

  It turns on this being a lycan thing, being me is complicated, more complicated than it appears to be. Turns out not are only werewolves real and in Brooklyn New York, but there are five werewolf packs in New York and many more around the country. It’s been Bodil’s job to tell me of the how and why of things. “So do you get it? The difference between werewolves and lycans now?” She asks me, tucking her brown hair behind her ear, elbows on the table in front of us..

  “Sure,” I mutter back at her. “It’s a social caste system you’ve created. No equality amongst wolves. If you’re honest with yourself, because I can tell you’re smart enough, you’ll actually agree that what I’m saying is true. Your kind, werewolves, feel that because others, who are wolves, lycans even, do not have the birth rite to call themselves something that you see so socially superior to the rest of us, beings. It’s not really about the abilities and what not.” I throw a cashew nut into my mouth and crunch down on it. She frowns back at me.

  “That’s not it.” She growls. “And if you can’t see that, then you’re going to have a hell of a hard time fitting in, anywhere around here.”

  “I see it, all of it.” I say sweeping my hands out around me. “I see, hear, smell, and feel more than I ever did before, when I was ‘just’ human Booker.” I make little rabbit ears when I say that. “And since becoming lycan Booker, I’ve been subjected to the looks, the stares, the obvious prejudices that you,” I say pointing at her, “Werewolves have grown up to believe is acceptable. Idioms and tolerances that have formed your culture of exclusiveness and superiority.” I chuck another handful of nuts in my mouth and crunch them loudly.

  “What, don’t you guys think I hear the secret whisperings going on down in the kitchen just because I’m mint fresh at this wolf gig and sleeping in Aksel’s room?” I smirk back at her watching her expression change to one of surprise. “See that’s what I mean, you think you guys are the only ones who can,”

  “You can hear us in the kitchen?” Bodil cuts me off. “When we’re whispering?” She says leaning forward.

  “Yeah, how else do you think I know Aksel said that lycans are just paper weight imitations of what you guys are and will never be anything more, especially with me and Hooper. If I recall correctly, he called Hooper a hopeless emotional mess and me whole lot of trouble waiting to happen.” I smile back at her widely. I’m so sick of this bullshit talk about me and this stupid condition without anyone actually talking to me.

  Bodil leans back and removes her elbows from the table top. “Booker, most lycans can’t hear over that kind of distance. It’s what we werewolves would call an alpha ability.”

  My smile drops. “An alpha ability?”

  “Yeah, brace yourself Booker. You’r
e going to need to accept a harsh truth. You’re not just a lycan anymore.”

  “I’m not?” I ask, confused and slightly hopeful at the same time. Maybe there is a condition that is driving this need of mine to want Bg Sommers so damn badly.

  “If I didn’t t know better, I’d swear you were an Alpha Lycan. I’ve personally never heard of them or met one. But all I’ve ever learnt about lycans, I’ve never known one to be able to do what you just described. I mean, you get how far the kitchen is from the bedrooms right?”

  “Right.” I reply feeling the hopefulness flit away quickly. “So you’re saying, that I am definitely a lycan then.”

  “You know how wolves in the wild have runts in their litter?” She replies and I nod my head back at her. “Lycans are the runt of the paranormal wolf world. Except, I don’t think you’re a runt.”

  I sigh and lean back against my seat. “Great.”

  “This is great. You’ll see, it will be so much better for you to be an Alpha Lycan, than some sort of beta lycan who can’t do shit. Well you know, the good stuff.” Bodil says at me enthusiastically and my eyes flick up to the doorway behind her and the figure standing in it.

  Bodil swivels around in her seat and she starts to get up. “Oh Bg, did you hear that?” Bg’s whole body language and hurt expression on her face is telling us both that she heard every word. She looks past Bodil and stares at me like I’ve stabbed her or something before turning around and leaving us alone again in the kitchen.

  “Oh hey, Bg! I’m sorry! I didn’t t mean that at you, you have to know!” Bodil shouts out after her, but she’s gone and I’m trying to figure out what just happened in the kitchen there.

  Bodil sighs and plonks herself back down in the seat opposite me. “Well, fuck me.”

  My eyebrows raise up sharply and she pulls her lip up at me in a snarl. Reassuring me it wasn’t an invitation to get into her pants. I’m just about to ask her what happened when she says “I’m an alpha werewolf, Aksel, our dad, all alpha werewolves. Markus, Bg and Joss are all beta’s.”

 

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