Gay Paranormal Romance: Daddy Wolf (Gay Shifter Mpreg) (MM Paranormal Omega Romance)

by Sy Walker

  The fear in his eyes only made me look at him with hunger. It was that smell of fear that made it almost impossible not to show him the animal. I washed my hands of the blood. I came back into the room to find that he was frantically trying to get out of those bonds.

  “You have nothing to worry about. The wolves are gone and they will not come back, unless you give them reason to. If you were to go back against your word, then my life will be forfeited along with your own. I’m all in and that means that whatever you do will come back on me.” I easily flew through the air and landed with my teeth bared and my claws ready for battle.

  He closed his eyes and cowered away from me “I told you that I wouldn’t tell anyone. You don’t have to kill me.” Killing him was the last thing on my mind. The smell of his fear only drove me into of madness that had me ramming him repeatedly with his body bouncing up and down on the mattress. “My god…you are a fucking animal…fucking animal.”

  “I never meant to scare you, but it does make this a hundred times better. Having you tied up and terrified out of your mind is the best way to feel totally out of control. That one time that I killed my entire family haunts me, but now I realize that this was my nature.” I could no longer control what my wolf did any more than I could control the weather outside.

  My claws were ripping into his skin. The feel of his blood and the taste of it, as I licked it from my claws was better than any blue pill out on the market today. I fucked him and I showed that I had the stamina to go all the way. Each time that I hit his prostrate, his cock would give up a little bit of that liquid jewel. This was better than it probably would have been without the danger surrounding us. “Your ass is mine and I tend to have it any damn time I feel like it. You know that you can’t resist me. If I ask you to bend over, you will do it willingly without reservation. You love having my cock. I know that I have imprinted my sexuality on yours. We are forever linked, but there is one thing missing.”

  “I don’t want that.” He didn’t have a clue what he wanted and I wasn’t going to give him a choice anyway.” Don’t cum inside me or you and I are going to have problems.… AHHH… AHHHH… JESUS. I don’t think that there’s a man alive that can do this to me.” His cock looked ready to explode. The head ballooned and the entire shaft was jerking.

  “You want this. You can say that you don’t, but your eyes say something different.” I lifted him into the air, so that I could pound him repeatedly without any breather in between. His ass smacked against my thighs. I was more than happy to drive deep. His ass was a creamy delight. “You are about to get a rare gift that no mere mortal man has ever had.” I could tell that he had no idea what I meant. I could feel the throes of my own passion sneaking up on me.

  I bit into his neck, feeding off that fear and giving him my seed one shot after another. It was almost endless and I continually gave him thrusts, until I was unable to move any longer.

  You can imagine that when he found that he was pregnant that he wasn’t very happy by the notion. I told him that we were together now, and that I would protect him from anybody that wanted to do him harm. It didn’t hurt that being impregnated would’ve made him ostracized in his own profession. He would be seen, as a freak, not unlike the rest of my wolf brothers.

  George took the news indifferently. He just wanted me to be happy, and I had found the one thing that made that possible. It didn’t wash away my sins, but it allowed me to forgive myself and to move on with the rest of my life.

  Unfortunately, Jeremy had to cut ties with his, although he didn’t have all that many to begin with. Even his boss really didn’t care that he was leaving. I got this feeling like there was some kind of bad blood between the two of them.

  When he did have the baby, it was healthy and I could tell that he was a proud father. He probably didn’t think that he would feel that way, but one touch of the kids’ hand wrapped around his little finger and he was a goner. I had the family that I had been desperately searching for, and he had the ultimate story that he couldn’t tell. But there was nothing in the world now that would convince him to let out the secret about the wolf shifters.

  The End.

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  HIGHLAND HOWL

  “Bite down,” Fingon let his hands gently brush against William’s chin as he placed the leather strap in the bound man’s mouth. “It will all be over soon.”

  WHHpaaaw! The crack of the whip was more disturbing than the sensation. The young nobleman could feel his knees buckling under the pressure, but there was nowhere for him to go. The chains around his feet and rope around his hands made sure of that.

  “William Stewart,” Fr. Leelyn stared gleefully at the condemned man as he read out the charges. The good father always enjoyed watching justice being served. “You are charged with Buggery, Sodomy,” Fr. Leelyn’s voice quivered with every strike of the whip, “And having thus besmirched your father’s house you are sentenced to thirty lashes and five years of hard labor.”

  William looked to his father Lord Lachlan Stewart who would not meet William’s gaze. Lord Stewart’s latest wife Ann sat at his side breast-feeding William’s little brother. William tried to hate little Lachlan II, but his father had been trying to replace him for years. It wasn’t the baby’s fault. The newest Stewart was just the first male Stewart to live, since William of course.

  “You shall be stripped of all titles and inheritance,” The Father grimaced at William as Fingon’s latest blow ripped a hole in the flimsy fabric of William’s prison garb. The stained night gown was the only possession William had been allowed to keep. If William ever did leave his father’s holdfast it would be as a penniless beggar.

  William bit down hard on the leather strap. It was all that he could do. His father had made sure that William was punished just like every other buggerer living on Stewart land. William had been bent over a wooden rod in the town square with his hands tied to his knees. Lachlan Stewart wanted there to be no question as to who would be his heir.

  “Ahhh!” William yelled trying desperately to keep the strap in his mouth. The last thing he needed was to bite through his tongue as well.

  “I think he likes it!” A man called out to the delight of the crowd. William had forgotten that any of them were still there. The commoners always loved to see high-born lads up on the paddocks. A flogging normally drew a crowd, but the whole town, and even some of the highland farmers seemed to have filed into the square to see William’s shame.

  “Sorry,” William heard Fingon mutter to him as he ripped away the torn bits of cloth. William was left with sleeves as a covering. He looked at the blood soaked rags the Captain of the Guards had just thrown at his feet. “Only ten more,” Fingon’s words seemed like an apology, as they grew farther and farther away. The crowd seemed to be fading away as well. His legs grew fitful and violent as the strain mounted, but the bindings would not allow him to fall.

  The pain had stopped for the young man. He could only feel a tugging at his back as the braided leather ran across it. The buzzing in his ears was drowning out the jeers of the crowd, but he could feel the strained vibrations of screams coming from his own throat. When the fetters were removed and circulation returned to his body the stabbing pain coursed through his body. The convicted man was tossed into a wagon. William could feel the clacking of the cobblestone road on the wooden wheels and he could focus on nothing else…until.

  “EEEWWW!” It was woman’s voice old and shrill, and it sent shivers down William’s spine. Cold, brown water splashed across William’s back. He could feel the tiny scratches and long-running cuts that criss-crossed his skin. The stinging wetness was unbearably painful. Where am I? William wondered, but it quickly became all too clear. The dungeons under Ulva Castle had always had the same peculiar smell. I would have a better chance if they just left me in the square. William knew that the chances of surviving a lengthy term in a dungeon cell were small.

  Most of the prisoners died after
only a few weeks. The conditions were cramped, damp, and dark. He seemed to be alone. As William sat up he realized that he had been left exactly as he had been on the scaffold. He peeled off the sleeves that were the only pieces of his night gown that remained. He had a light woolen blanket to cover his dignity, if it could be said that I still had any, William thought.

  “Grrrrr,” The low guttural noise brought William back to the moment. He remembered the scream. He was not alone in the dungeon. The room was grey and sullen as William searched for the owner of the mop and bucket that now lay discarded in the middle of the room. Instead he found two golden eyes.

  Gliding easily out of the darkened corner of the cell, William was hoping to see one of his father’s hounds, but this was much too big. The grey wolf was three stones larger than any dog in the Stewart kennels. The fangs were covered in a thick layer of spittle that was dripping as the lanky beast loped forward. William still felt weak and nauseous as he turned to flee, forgetting that he was trapped inside a small cell. The stars flew before his eyes as the cold stone wall pressed up against his face. William felt the ground coming toward him.

  “He is getting better, but he will need several days before he will start moving around again.” It was a strange voice. Clearly high born, he spoke as eloquently as William, but the young lord knew every nobleman for a hundred miles at least. Strong hands rubbed salve into his aching wounds. Then William heard a voice he recognized.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” It was Fingon. “I’m Milord’s Justice, I can’t disobey an order.” Fingon had grown up with William. This Captain of the Guard had taken over the position from his father. The two young men grew up as best friends. William wasn’t mad at his friend. He knew where the blame for his condition lied.

  As William was being led up to the scaffolds and tied into the wooden crossbar he thought about the first time he and Fingon had seen that very same implement being built in the castle yard. “We have a buggerer to punish,” Yarwick the Lord Stewart’s personal attendant. The boys had spent the rest of the day asking people what a buggerer was, and why they were being punished?

  It was a stable boy who finally told them, “No!” Fingon looked shocked.

  “Stuck it right in there,” The common boy was fingering his right hand as a demonstration. 111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 Fingon and William were laughing and pushing each other as they ran back to the Ulva Castle grounds.

  They always wrestled, “As boys do,” William could still hear his father saying, but that day it took on a new twist. At first it was playful, the boys were poking at each other in mockery of the stable boys actions. Just hitting each other’s chests, then William stuck a finger in Fingon’s mouth. The larger boy let the finger stay there for a moment, closing his golden brown eyes, and even licked at the finger a bit.

  William pulled his finger back blushing. He pushed his blonde hair back out of his face. Both boys’ faces were red from embarrassment. Fingon looked at the ground his long brown hair obscuring his eyes. “It’s okay, I just...” William tried to say, but Fingon had tackled him to the ground. William was better with a sword, bow, and lance. Fingon could not compare to his higher born counterpart in those contests, but in wrestling he had the edge. The boys rolled about grinding into each other. This time as with all of their wrestling bouts, William was always the one who was pinned in the end. It was years before they got passed that stage, but that is where their affair had started.

  “If you don’t stop his father, then there is no real point to helping him.” The stranger was gently laying bandages on the wounds across William’s back. William was breathing deeply as he tried to maintain the illusion of sleep. He was not mad at his friend, but he couldn’t face him like this. Luckily for William, Fingon bowed and walked out of the dungeons. “You can stop pretending, he’s gone.”

  “What?” William said trying to act like he was sleepily rising, but as he sat up the blood rushed to his head and he got very dizzy.

  “Oh, sorry, I noticed that you woke up a few minutes ago,” The stranger was standing by the window and the light was making it hard for William’s eyes to focus. “I just assumed you didn’t want to talk to the Lord’s Justice at this point in your recovery.”

  William was half listening as he slowly began to realize that he didn’t even feel that bad. His back felt great and the head rush had filled him with energy. “What did you do to me?”

  “I applied salve,” The stranger was smiling with his silver-blue eyes. “You have to seem sick though, as they aren’t quite finished with your punishment.” William who was feeling his own muscles spun his head around quickly. “Your father isn’t a nice man.” A creaky door swung wide as a strong hand guided William back under the covers. “Lay still,” whispered in his ear. William could feel the sensation running all the way down his back.

  “Lord Buggerer,” Grimy barked as he entered the dungeons with his mute guard, Yeost. The castle jailer had been named Grimwauld at birth, but no one ever bothered to finish. The nickname seemed to suit the dirty, lice ridden, shirtless jailer. “Or should I say Lord Buggerer, which end do you like it in?” The filthy old man laughed, “I guess we’ll see soon enough.” Grimy was nudging Yeost so hard it looked like he was going to break through his ribs. Yeost’s entire body shook, but no sound came out.

  William wanted to respond, but a firm hand on his shoulder and a kind look from the stranger helped the former nobleman stay calm. His long auburn hair draped over his shoulder and hid their faces from the round jailer. “Breathe easy,” was all that he said as he started changing the bandages again. William couldn’t feel the cuts anymore. Since he had sat up all the pain had gone away. William focused on that as Grimy continued to mock him.

  “ZZZZZZZZ,” the sound filled the dungeons. Yeost had fallen asleep first. His head rested on Grimy’s shoulder. The pair of guards had snuggled up on an old wooden bench. It is no better than the accommodations inside the cell, William thought to himself.

  “How do you feel?” The stranger asked as he bent down to help William up.

  “I don’t need any help,” William said as he let the man help him anyway, “The hardest part has been pretending to not feel well.” The young nobleman could feel his guts rumbling, “I haven’t eaten anything since before the flogging. What is your name?”

  “Simply, James.”

  “I have been feeding you periodically,” James said, “When you were conscious enough for you to swallow. I did most of the chewing for you.” James playfully used his hands to mash William’s jaws. His hands were rough, with long, muscular fingers. William could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. He lowered his eyes he could feel the other man’s eyes on him.

  “Ack!” William grabbed at his own arms and curled up into a ball. Muscle spasms were exploding all over his body. He tried to curl up, but James was pushing him back into the bed. The larger man ran his hands down William’s legs and unclasped his arms. He spoke in a soothing tone.

  “It is just the medicine doing its job.” William could feel the words throughout his body. It was strange, but it felt like he was under James’ spell. “Focus on my voice,” James whispered, “You need to stay calm and it will pass.”

  The words washed over William and his breathing slowed. He was focused on the words, but also on the hands that were caressing his smooth chest. The hands moved on to his arms and then down his thighs. James was applying just a little bit of pressure to try and calm his cell mate.

  “Making friends I see,” William looked up to see his father. He sat up even though the pain in his muscles was returning. He refused to let his father see that he was in pain. “My fairy son...” Lachlan Stewart was about to berate his son when he noticed his sleeping jailers. “Get up!” He said kicking over the bench and sending the two men tumbling in a pile to the ground. William was happy for the distraction as he watched his father kicking and punching the two men, chasing them out of the roo
m.

  William tried to get his head together before his father came back. He could tell from the shadows on the floor that the day as nearing its end. His father had been dressed like he was hosting a visiting Lord, one from the good side of the family. He looked over at James who had moved himself back into a darker corner of the room. He sat on a bench turned away from where the Lord of Ulva had been.

  “Cozying up with the rebels, eh?” Lord Stewart said as he came back in a huff. “I need to know where you stand...”

  “In a dungeon cell!” William shot back as he almost ran to the bars. “Except for when I stand in the town square and get flogged.” A sarcastic smile crossed his face and he could see that his impudence was getting to his father.

  “Do you not see the trouble you are in?” The Lord asked his disavowed son. “I am here to offer you terms. Terms by which you leave here and resume your lascivious lifestyle, terms for how you can still be of service to the realm and to your family.”

  “You need me to lead another campaign.” William understood at once what his father’s words had meant. Lord Stewart had looked away. William was not only a gifted swordsman and jouster in tournaments. His prowess on the battlefield had become the stuff of legend. Lachlan Stewart had come to rely on his son in his son’s military skill. The highland clans had never accepted the rule of the House of Stewart. “How dare you?”

  “You’re a pufta, but put a sword in your hand and you can beat off all comers.” Lachlan almost looked proud of his son as he said it. He looked imploringly at his son, “I need you. The highland clans are rallying around a new champion. Apparently he has the blood of the MacQuarrie’s flowing through his veins. We have barely been able to hold this castle against the lesser clans fighting them individually, and now they are joining together.” Lachlan was sounding sincere and that was the most troubling part for William, how could his father actually believe that he would help him?

  “Your cousin the King has sent us 2000 reinforcements to help us hold this God forsaken island, and I need you to lead them.”Lord Stewart put on a very official and authoritative air as he said, “You have a moment to decide. If you will not help me then tonight you will be executed in the throne room.” A weird smile crossed Lachlan’s lips, “Your friend Fingon has volunteered to swing the sword.”