“Why did you kidnap me?” I asked.
“Because now is the Time of Breeding.” He answered. A much larger knot of fear seized my internal organs upon hearing that, even though he had already told me.
“Breeding?”
“Yes, I need you to bear my progeny.”
“Why? Aren’t there any female werewolves?”
“No, and there haven’t been any since the ancient times,” my werewolf captor explained. “Every few solar years, there is a solar month in which two full moons appear in a row. The second of these full moons is what you call a ‘blue moon’, but the time between these full moons is the Time of Breeding for my kind. When the first moon rises, we go out and seek a human mate, and take her back to our den. Then we mate with her until she conceives our progeny before returning her on the night of the blue moon.”
“So, I’m going to be your prisoner for a month?”
“You will be my mate for a lunar month,” he said to me, “and, eventually, you will be the mother of my offspring.”
I lay in his arms in total silence for several minutes, contemplating the idea of a secret werewolf civilization that needed human women to reproduce. On the one hand I was terrified to the bone to have found myself the prisoner and sex slave of an actual werewolf, if indeed he was telling me the truth. On the other hand, it had been the greatest sexual experience of my life when he took me, and I felt deep within me that it was only natural for a male of such superhuman virility to claim me as his own and force me to bear his children.
“That’s impossible,” I answered in denial, “if werewolves existed, we would have discovered them long ago.”
“My people are few in number, but our culture is thousands of years old,” my lupine captor explained calmly, “we have grown very adept at hiding ourselves away from prying eyes. Furthermore, we have certain…arrangements with your leaders.”
“What kind of ‘arrangements’?” I asked apprehensively.
“I am no politician, so I am not privy to the details. But suffice it to say, your governments help us keep our existence a secret. It’s a surprisingly amicable relationship, given the lurid legends your kind believes about us.”
My head was spinning with the revelations being thrown at me; an ancient werewolf civilization and a government conspiracy to hide its existence from everyone? It couldn’t be true, could it? Then again, there didn’t seem to be any other explanation for it. I continued to ply my captor-lover with questions and he answered each one with implacable patience, though not always with as much detail as I wanted.
My kidnapper told me many fascinating things. Silver was considered an unlucky and evil symbol, but it was no more fatal than any other metal. It wasn’t true that humans became werewolves after being bitten, but it was true that werewolves could transform at will. They didn’t require moonlight to transform, but the moon was a sacred celestial object in their mythology and their cultural mindset. I asked if he could transform now, and was somewhat glad when he declined to do so.
Werewolves also had their own spoken language, written using something called ‘claw script’, with a full body of literature and poetry. Even harder to believe, my captor was actually a scholar of werewolf history, language, and literature – hence the bookshelves and the writing desk – and spent most of his time preserving this culture when he wasn’t mating with hapless human females during the Time of Breeding.
My captor was not forthcoming about his name, but he did tell me that he had earned the honorable rank of ‘alpha’ for successfully siring progeny after his 100th ‘Time of Breeding’, I was his 103rd conquest. Apparently, I would give birth to a single, human looking child, even though the child would technically be called a pup. Our child would disappear into the wild when he came of age to join the other werewolves, after which I would never see him again. I asked him about his superhuman sexual prowess. How was it that I had been unable to fight back when he drew near to me?
“During the Time of Breeding, we exude pheromones which enable us to subdue our chosen mates.” He explained as I listened raptly, “it causes many symptoms: weakening of the will, heightening of arousal, moistening of the womanhood, stronger than usual orgasms. It renders you powerless to resist us as we claim you for our own.”
But how was he able to make me cum so many times as we mated whilst exercising such immense personal control before ejaculating inside me?
“Practice.” was his laconic reply.
***
My 103rd mate was an unusually inquisitive and talkative one, far more so than the others had been. However, I was keeping her as a sexual captive for a month and forcing her to undergo the long term consequences of bearing and raising my offspring. The least I could do for her was indulge her curiosity in an effort to make her stay in my den more comfortable. I fed her lavish meals of meat in order to build up her fat reserves, without which she could not conceive, and I mated with her as many times a day as possible. The den echoed with her cries of ecstasy and resounded with my howls as I filled her with my alpha’s seed.
A fortnight after I had first taken her, I noticed a change in her scent. She no longer exuded the scent of a female in heat, though she still reeked of feminine sexual lust, she smelled like a female carrying new life inside her. I doubted that she would notice until many weeks later, humans were so ill-tuned to their own bodily functions, in addition to being virtually blind, deaf, and hyposmic in comparison to lycanthropes.
In many ways, humans’ sensory dullness was sad in that they were unable to experience the full range of sensations available to my kind during mating. I had brought my conquest to the height of the ecstasy her senses permitted her to feel, but she would never know the true extent of the pleasure that overwhelmed me when I mated with her. There were still two more weeks until the blue moon and the Time of Breeding ended, so I mated her with equal frequency and passion, asserting my sexual dominance over her again and again and again, and drowning her in such intense orgasms that she blacked out several times.
Eventually, however, the night of the blue moon came, and I had to sedate her so she would never know the route back to my den. She had given me her home address and I had only just stepped through her front door when she regained consciousness in my arms.
“I have brought you home.” I informed her. She smiled up at me in the darkness and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me close.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly.
“For what?” I asked her, genuinely puzzled.
“For the best month of my life,” she replied with dreamy gratitude, “and for making a woman out of me so vigorously.”
“You are more than welcome, my dear.”
“I think I may be pregnant already.”
“I know you are.” I informed her.
“How?” she asked quizzically.
“Your bodily scent changed two weeks ago,” I answered, “the pheromones you emit are those of a female with life quickening inside her.”
“You have quite a nose on you.” She commented.
“I am a lycanthrope,” I explained without conceit, “all of my senses are superior to those of humans, even when I am in human form.”
“That’s obviously not the only thing you’re superior at…” she commented salaciously, and I sensed feminine arousal bloom like a fire inside her. My own arousal began to blaze in my chest and groin, but I quelled it, knowing that I had to leave before the blue moon set.
“I cannot stay,” I explained with a heavy heart, “I am sorry.”
“Why not?” She asked with plaintive tone.
“The Time of Breeding ends at moonset, and you are already with child. I cannot mate with you again. It would be against tradition.”
“Ok, I understand,” she said with a disappointed tone, “I’ll take good care of our child.”
“I know you will,” I replied, “that was partly why I chose you.”
She leaned up and kissed me full on
the lips, and for a moment I seriously considered flouting tradition and mating with her right there on the floor; but once again, I brought myself under control. She leaned up further and put her mouth to my ear.
“The next time there’s a full moon, and those primal urges become a little too hard to control…you know where I live.”
Her delicious words nearly sent me over the edge, but instead I promised her that I might return if I could. In the meantime, she should be a good mother to our pup, and remember to eat plenty of meat whilst she was pregnant. I gently put her to bed, and she fell back to sleep almost immediately, exhausted from her month long captivity. I smiled briefly, then turned and left.
As I left the human city and wound my way back up into the mountains, I turned my latest conquest’s sultry offer over in my mind. It was against tradition to mate outside of the time of breeding – a restriction that probably contributed to the ferocity of the mating during the Time of Breeding as the pent up sexual energy was aggressively released – but I had never actually read anything which explicit forbade it.
As I reminisced about my latest mating frenzy, I decided that I would definitely like to share that human female’s bed again, though I would have to consult the moon codes to be safe. It may have been against tradition, but even millennia old customs must ultimately bend to the primal urges of alpha beasts like me.
To Serve an Alpha (Rape Stories, Forced Sex, BBW Werewolf Breeding) Page 2