by Noah Harris
“Wait! We have to run. We can’t fight them all. They heard you, and they’re coming.”
Osier hesitated for a moment.
“Please, we have to go. It would be suicide to stay here, even for you. They’re too many!”
Osier shook himself, visibly trying to regain control. With a final snarl, he turned and loped across the field. Thomas sprinted to keep up. They hurried over a broad stretch of open ground. The lane disappeared in the darkness behind them. At the far end of the field, they encountered a stream, which Osier took in a single bound. Thomas had to splash through.
They flashed up a wooded hill and found a small shed next to a clearing. The ground was dotted with the stumps of trees. Gripping his cutlass, Thomas entered the shed. It was barely more than a temporary shelter from the sun and rain for whoever was clearing the land. There was no door—just an open doorway—and no windows. A low bench stood to one side, bearing a blanket wrapped around a woodsman’s axe and whetstone.
“We can hide here for a time,” Thomas suggested.
Osier growled and paced back and forth in front of the shed. His breathing was fast and heavy, not from the long chase—which seemed not to have tired him at all—but from the strange magic that coursed through his veins. He had shrunk since the combat, but still looked strange, a lumbering, hairy man who Thomas was glad he was not seeing in the daylight.
Osier snarled and growled. “Killed our men!” he shouted.
“Please keep your voice down,” Thomas said in a soothing tone.
“For nothing! Good men died for nothing! I’ll kill all those bastards. I’ll rip them apart!”
Thomas spread out his hands in a calming gesture. “Osier, you must calm down. Someone will hear you. They’re searching all over for us. They seem sure that we have whatever it is they’re after. We have to hide.”
Osier stopped and shook his head. “You’re right. Must get calm. Safe for the moment.”
“Yes, we’re safe now. No danger if you keep calm.”
Osier shook his broad head. “Can’t. Hit me in the face. Saw friends die.”
Osier’s face contorted with the effort of trying to soothe his raging emotions. He seemed to be bulking up again, and even though he was not fully changed as he had been in the holding cell of the Manhunter, that tantalizing musk emanated from him in intoxicating waves.
He was still being too damn noisy, as well. Thomas looked around, searching for their pursuers in the dark. They’d been caught once by Osier’s behavior, and they could be again. He needed to get the werebear inside and calmed down.
But how?
The answer thrilled and frightened him in equal measure.
Thomas stepped back into the doorway of the shed and disrobed. Osier, still pacing and growling, didn’t notice until Thomas stood naked before him, his prick stiff and eager.
Osier stopped and stared at the human.
“Come here,” Thomas whispered, hearing his voice tremble. “I’ll make you feel better.”
Osier let out a low growl that made Thomas’s dick throb with desire. This was no growl of anger or rage. This was an animalistic sound of lust. The werebear paced towards him, his bulk filling the narrow doorway and darkening the interior. Thomas took a step back.
Osier entered, unbuckling his trousers with slow, confident movements.
Thomas thanked his lucky stars that the interior of the shed was so dark. He did not want to see too clearly the creature that would mate with him. He could see enough to know that Osier’s meat was a thick hunk of flesh that would have been impossible to exist on a regular man. Would it be impossible for a regular man to receive?
The next moment, Thomas realized he was going to find out. With inhuman strength, Osier grabbed him by the shoulders and bent him over. Thomas grabbed the bench for balance.
Osier let out a long, slow breath that wafted along Thomas’s bare back like a monsoon wind. His meaty hands grasped his shoulders and clenched. Thomas had always been proud of his muscles, proud of his wide shoulders, but they seemed ridiculously small and weak compared to the paw-like hands of this strange, compelling beast man. Osier’s thick shaft pressed against his ass crack, the bulbous head parting his cheeks, seeking out the trembling yet willing hole within. Thomas took a deep breath of the musk, feeling it intoxicate him as much as a bottle of rum. He hoped, like rum, it would kill the pain.
It did not.
With an irresistible force, Osier made a long, slow thrust that pushed his huge shaft into Thomas right up to the base.
Thomas choked out a cry, his eyes tearing up as his ass stretched more than he ever thought possible. He was dimly aware that Osier’s cock was lubed somehow. He had not seen him spit on it, or apply some olive oil like the sailors on the Manhunter. It seemed that his cock was naturally slick.
As Thomas hyperventilated from the pleasurable pain, he thanked his good fortune. If Osier had tried to dry fuck him, he’d have probably died.
Slowly, Osier pulled out almost to the tip, and for a brief second Thomas hoped that the werebear had heard his cry and was taking mercy on him.
The next instant Thomas realized his foolishness.
Osier pushed back in, harder and more forcefully this time. Thomas was shoved forward as the man’s hairy thighs thudded against his smooth cheeks.
Osier pulled back again, and thrust forward a third time. Thomas let out another cry. He wasn’t sure he could stand it. The werebear was too big, his thrusts too strong, but Thomas could feel those massive hands clamped down tight on his shoulders, enveloping them with their broad palms and thick fingers. He was being mounted, and he could sense the beast behind him taking over.
The long, powerful thrusts continued. Osier did not pick up speed like some men. He did not slam quickly into Thomas like those anxious to reach orgasm as quickly as possible. The werebear was in no hurry. He rode this willing human bottom with a casual dominance. Each time he pulled back almost far enough to come out of Thomas’s hole, and each thrust slammed Osier’s cock right up to his its base. Every time that happened, Thomas got pushed forward, kept from toppling over by those massive hands gripping his shoulders. And with each thrust, Thomas felt himself giving himself up a little more to this strange lover.
Thomas kept his eyes closed, and breathed deeply of the musk that drugged him with its sensual odor.
The thrusts continued. Thomas found himself entering a dream world, a world where he could surrender himself to a lover and let him totally take over his body. In his earlier secret fumbling on previous ships and shore leaves, there have been no time for such relaxed lovemaking. He had never had the opportunity to give himself up in this way. All the troubles of his situation - his uneasy status aboard the ship, the slaughter they had witnessed, the band of killers that was even now hunting for them - all that fell away as he gave himself up to the delightful sensation of being dominated.
Yes, all he had to do was give himself up to Osier. The werebear was more experienced and far stronger. Thomas would be safe with him. Osier would take care of him.
The grip tightened on his shoulders, making Thomas wince with pain. The thrusts, while maintaining their steady rhythm, increased in force. Strangely, Thomas could feel his battered ass relax even further in the face of this onslaught. He had become a willing vessel for this half-human creature.
All this was done in near silence. Thomas tried to keep his little cries and gasps from making too much noise, and the only sound from Osier was a deep, animalistic panting that could come from no human throat. It sent prickles of delightful fear up Thomas’s spine, making him thank his good fortune once again that the shed was shrouded in darkness. He did not want to see, yet yearned to see, what kind of creature was mounting him at this moment.
Only at the very end did Osier pick up speed. The thrusts came quicker, each one tearing a little gasp from the object of his lust. In Thomas all thought faded away, leaving only sensation—pain, pleasure, surrender. He felt his hole f
lower open even further, ready to take the werebear’s seed. He wondered if the lycanthrope’s cum could impregnate him with Osier’s inhuman state, if it could make him a lycanthrope, too, but he found that he didn’t much care. Let Osier do what he willed with him, as long as he could enjoy this wonderful feeling.
When the werebear finally orgasmed, it felt unlike every other man that had ever done so before him. A great rush of hot liquid shot deep inside his body. Over and over Osier shot into him, an incredible amount of semen that would have been impossible for a normal man.
Osier kept him in a tight grip, keeping Thomas motionless as the werebear pumped his seed into him. Thomas got the strange sensation that the hands around his shoulders had grown. Rough hair prickled his bare shoulders. For a moment Thomas did not move, relishing the sweet sensation of being filled by a man and his semen.
“I want to cum, too,” Thomas said, his voice coming out as a plaintive whisper. “I’m close, oh so close.”
He could feel his dick painfully swollen, eager to shoot his own stream of sex juice.
Osier removed one of his hands from Thomas’s shoulder and ran a finger from the base of Thomas’s cock right up to the head.
One light stroke was all that was needed. Thomas exploded with the most powerful orgasm of his life. Hot liquid gushed out of him, spraying against the wall of the shed with a loud splat. At that moment Thomas forgot himself and let out a triumphant wail.
This was cut short when Osier’s huge, hairy paw clamped down on his nose and mouth.
“Shhhh. Easy, boy.”
Thomas reeled from the waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His cock pulsed and shot stream after stream of jism. He tried to take in a breath but with that broad hand over his face, he could not. Stars danced before his eyes and he felt himself go into a swoon. He struggled, fought to stay conscious, all the while Osier held him in a tight, hairy embrace. The werebear’s other arm was wrapped around him now like a bristly band of steel. The creature’s rough chest scraped against the human’s bare back. Thomas shuddered and let out the last of his sex juice, then slumped, barely awake, into Osier’s embrace, still impaled on the meaty shaft that had given him so much pleasure.
Osier let go of his nose and mouth and Thomas took a great loud gulp of air. Immediately, Osier clamped his hand over his face again.
“Shh, they still pursue us,” the officer whispered.
Thomas struggled. The air he had inhaled had not been enough, and his vision darkened, lit only by a thousand stars.
“Quietly this time,” Osier commanded.
Osier took his hand away. Thomas tried to control himself, tried to breathe quietly, but it was impossible. Again, the hand clamped down on him.
“I said quietly, boy. Now, do as you’re told.”
Once again, the hand was removed. This time Thomas, through an act of supreme effort, managed to take in a relatively quiet breath.
After a minute, his breathing came easier. Osier sat him on his lap, the werebear’s softening penis still inside him, and wrapped those big hairy arms protectively around him.
“That was…fantastic,” Thomas whispered.
“And it was just what I required,” the werebear said into his ear, the hot breath sending a delightful pleasure through Thomas’s exhausted but satiated body. “I am in control of my change now.”
“So much cum,” Thomas sighed. “I wish you had sprayed it all over me. It would have covered my face and washed down my whole body.”
Thomas couldn’t believe his own ears. He had never fantasized about something like that.
Osier let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “You’d like that? Next time, maybe I will.”
Thomas reached behind him to stroke Osier’s thick beard. “I’ll wear it on the ship all day like a badge of honor.”
They sat in silence for several minutes. Osier’s cock finally slipped out of Thomas’s ass. The human immediately started thinking about the next time he could feel it inside him.
“You ran a risk offering yourself to me like that,” Osier said after a minute. He had returned to his normal size, which was large enough, and his voice sounded human once more.
“That was wonderful,” Thomas said, still leaning against him. He enjoyed the warmth and strength of the man beside him. In his previous life, getting quick relief in privies and back alleys, he had never had time for any sort of intimacy. He hardly even got to kiss men before becoming a pirate. It was always a long hunt, followed by a hurried session of sex, and a parting without so much as a goodbye. Now he was getting to experience true lovemaking.
“Wonderful, yes, but you could have been hurt.”
“I was hurt,” Thomas chuckled.
“No, I mean seriously hurt.”
“Frenchie warned me about that when I discovered you in the hold. I almost went out of my head with the musk that time and started taking my clothes off before he stopped me.”
“He was right to,” Osier said with a nod. “We were all fully changed. We could not have restrained ourselves. The gang of us would have passed you around until you were torn apart from the inside out.”
Thomas shivered a little. “Well, I would have died happy.”
“But you would have died. Take care, even when I am only half changed.”
Thomas felt a stirring in his pants at the unspoken promise of that statement.
“That other pirate crew would have hurt us quite a bit more if your growling had brought them to this hiding place.”
“True enough. There’s another thing you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Do not try to make love to us under a full moon, not even in the daytime when we appear human and can control our change. If we get aroused at such a time, we are likely to transform. Even if we don’t, our seed carries the taint of lycanthropy.”
Thomas leapt to his feet. “I’m going to turn into a werebear?”
Osier laughed and patted the bench beside him. “No! Only on the full moon. The seed I shot into you is as harmless as any man’s.”
Thomas sat down again, although after the ride Osier had given him, it was actually more comfortable to stand.
“I’ve noticed the lycanthropes don’t join in our nightly games very much.”
“We tend to prefer our own kind. Additionally, we don’t want humans to get too attached to us. They might be tempted to try and mate with us when we’re fully changed, or on a full moon.”
“I can understand that,” Thomas said, feeling an excitement start to fill his pants. He sidled up against Osier and put a hand on the officer’s broad thigh.
Osier smiled and pulled away.
“There will be plenty more time for sex if that’s what you want from me, sailor. But first we have to survive the night.”
They waited as the stars moved westward across the narrow doorway. The gunfire had long since died down, and yet still they did not feel safe. The silence in Cutlass Cove wasn’t a peaceful one. It was a watchful silence. A menacing silence.
He and Osier decided to take their chances with getting back to the Manhunter. Sunrise wasn’t too long away, and they didn’t dare be caught out in the daylight. Luckily, the sky had clouded over, and the cove lay under a mantle of darkness. They hoped to creep across town, grab a rowboat, and get to the safety of their ship and its fighting men.
They crept with care down the hill and across the field, closer to the bay. Despite the danger lurking in the night, Thomas felt buoyant and confident. This powerful werebear would take care of him. Anyone, or anything, that could fight and fuck like Osier would be able to get him safely back to the ship.
They followed the lane they had crossed before for a time, keeping off the road and in the bushes as much as they could, and entered a more built-up area. The lane widened, and buildings flanked either side. All the buildings still stood shuttered and silent. Thomas and Osier hugged the side of each building, keeping to the deepest shadows, and peered down every
road and alley before crossing it. They saw no one.
Thomas knew the general direction to the bay but was unsure of the quickest route. He had seen so little of the settlement before its inhabitants had started slitting each other’s throats.
“Come,” Osier whispered. “I think I know a shortcut.”
Thomas paused. The officer didn’t sound entirely sure of himself, and yet Thomas didn’t have much choice but to follow Osier’s lead. The burly pirate led him down a side street lined with more houses. Thomas gripped his cutlass more tightly. The alleys between these houses were narrow, just enough for a man to pass through—or shoot from—and there were many. They looked like the perfect place for an ambush.
They passed to the far end of the road and turned in the direction of the bay into an alley that was wider. Osier paused.
“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Thomas whispered.
Osier raised a silencing hand. In the gloom, Thomas barely noticed it.
And then he heard the sound.
It was a low groan and some whispering ahead.
Slowly, they backed away. And just then, the moon came out from behind the clouds.
Silvery light bathed the rooftops. The moon had sunk low and could not shine directly into the narrow alley, but the reflected light from the roofs and the roads made the interior of the alley more visible to their dark-adapted eyes.
A man lay there, his back propped against a wall, his head lolling, arms slack by his sides. A dark patch blackened the ground around him.
Osier and Thomas stopped and stared.
The figure groaned again. He lifted one hand weakly to his face and then let it fall.
“Madre de Dios. Ayudame.”
Thomas recognized the language as Spanish. The man must have been one of the targeted crew from the Spanish pirate ship, wounded and in hiding.
“Duele. Duele mucho. Ayudame.”
Osier and Thomas looked at each other, their eyes questioning, neither willing to make a sound.