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Retrograde

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Keith felt the tautness in his belly swell. Hot. Everything was burning a gash of scarlet red. Somewhere along the line, he’d been told to expect this come mating season. Except, rather than spending spring in the arms of one of his clan’s companions, Keith was sulking by an unoccupied spot in the hollow away from the festivities. Embarrassed by his obvious lack of interest, he tugged at his ears – long, floppy black, nothing less than what you’d expect from a were-rabbit. The sound of music cascaded from the trees, and from the corner of his eyes, Keith caught glimpses of the paper lanterns hanging from the branches and the shadows of his clan mates enjoying themselves.

He had a secret. Twelve moons ago, he almost left all of this behind.

By pure instinct, were-rabbits were shy and usually avoided those outside their clan – going as far to even burrow elaborate tunnels and villages so as not to meet strangers. But in a quiet act of rebellion, Keith had broken this unspoken law of self-preserving isolation. Something, or rather, someone had taken his interest as of late.

Not far from the clan’s grounds were the mountain steppes home to other were-clans. The were-bears, the were-falcons, were-lions, and most notorious among them, the werewolves. The most elusive of the clans, the wolves were known for intimidating their prey from a distance. By pure chance, Keith had been wandering the outskirts of his rabbit clan territory where, from the corner of his eyes, an isolated silhouette darted behind the trees. The encounter left him speechless, mind racing with possible explanations as to who could’ve been lurking so close to their grounds. If he reported it to the clan’s head, surely, he would be reprimanded for sneaking so far away – yet he’d no doubt be putting the clan in danger if he didn’t report it.

So Keith let it slide. He anxiously eyed the blade strapped to his waist, weighing the potential outcome of chasing the shadow down or letting it be. He gritted his teeth, mulling over the pressure in his jaw. After a few minutes of deliberation, Keith put the weapon away and headed home.

That particular episode, like the unnamed wolf, never escaped Keith’s increasingly wild imagination.

 


 

The humidity was beginning to become too much to bear. Keith swallowed his discomfort and found himself deeper into the woods, blade in hand, ready for any unexpected encounters. Recent wolf sightings along the perimeter of the settlement were causing an upstir among locals, not only interrupting seasonal festivities but also planting the first seeds of fear. Typically once the predatorial population of nearby clans begins to rise, the were-rabbits are quick to relocate. Life as a nomadic tribe wasn’t easy, but if they hoped on survival then it was the better than being hunted down and isolated from the rest of the clan.

With all this running through Keith’s head, he hesitated on hunting the mystery predator alone. But in the middle of the night, he settled on the conclusion that getting anyone else involved would be irresponsible. Of those his age in the clan, Keith wasn’t especially well regarded for his adherence to authority. So maybe this would be befitting, Keith wondered while he strapped blade to his hip pocket and tactfully set the sheath in place. He’d at least do some reconnaissance and report his findings back to the clan’s head. If he didn’t anything — and chances were high that he wouldn’t — he’d have to settle for whatever disappointment came with coming up empty-handed.

Keith took a deep breath. The bark of the oak trees rode up against his shoulders. A steady buzz of insects made sure the woods was never silent. Enough time passed that Keith was positive the wolf wouldn’t show up again, enough so that he began to question himself — had he really seen another member of the wolf clan? Were the wolves really as territorial as he initially believed? A droplet of sweat slithered from Keith’s temple to his neck. He crouched and stared at the soiled earth beneath him. Whatever was out there was waiting, patiently. If this was game, Keith was going to play it out until the end, until he was finally satisfied and could go back home.

“A little reckless of you to come on a full moon.”

The ground seemed to creak from behind the tree, causing the birds to stir and dart faster than Keith could react to. A hot, steaming paw left an imprint on the wood, vibrating the bark and striking terror into anything nearby. In a flash, Keith drew his blade and turned around, this time face-to-face with his first — and potentially last — living, breathing werewolf.

“You get the hell out of it,” Keith threatened, “We don’t take to strangers lightly, and I really doubt you’d like to start a conflict between clans again.”

“Is this what it’s about? You rabbits sometimes worry me.”

Keith wasn’t proud to admit it, but up close the werewolf had distinctive features he quickly became fixated on. A dark black coat mixed with white streaks was marked by an overlapping puzzle of old scars, among them a single brutal scar across the wolf’s snout. Instead of feeling repulsed, Keith was shamefully mesmerized by the wounds that clearly were added upon with age.

“Your arm…”

“It’s gone. Don’t think you have it easy, though. If you run, you’ll never see your clan again.”

“That’s a strong statement,” Keith scoffed. Blade still in hand, Keith slowly kept his back to the tree bark, preparing himself for an attack from behind. “I was told to keep an eye out for wolves. I’m glad I checked.”

“Still, careless,” the wolf commented. “You seem fairly capable, though. This might make a fun game.”

“Fuck off,” Keith hissed, “You leave our territory. You have your own clan-grounds. Don’t think just because you wolves have the most land you can trespass.”

“You’ll just move again. You always do. But maybe we can come to a compromise.”

The wood cracked. Keith felt the knot in his throat tighten. Something wasn’t right about this werewolf — although he typically didn’t venture out on a full-moon either. The bark snapped with a supernatural force. Keith gasped before darting into the open foliage ahead, ducking and hitting the ground before the oak finally gave away and came crashing down.

Keith knew this was life or death. He wasted no time drawing out his blade, defensively guarding his chest with his mantle pointed inwards as he drew himself up. Frantically he tried to track the wolf’s movement from the empty gash left in the earth, but nothing emerged from where the tree snapped in half. Fresh steam rose from the wound, slightly aglow with a lilac hue before fading into pitch dark. Keith felt his heart leap and thrash inside of him. If the wolf found him so easily then surely he could’ve tracked his scent down and back to the village — for all he knew this was a trap he blindly walked straight into.

But a heavy blow to his flank cut that thought short. Keith spat and tightened his grip on his blade, using the entire force of his arm to jab it in the direction of the strike. A rush of heat burned the underside of his hand, but Keith persisted through it and finally felt the blade slash through flesh. A vicious black liquid splattered on the ground. For a second, Keith felt victorious before ultimately a glow paw thrashed his head back into the ground, spinning the blade out of his hands. Keith bit his tongue and muffled a scream as the weight of the panting wolf hovered over him, practically ten-fold the size he initially thought it to be. Before long, his mind went blank, like a flamed snuffed out until he finally felt his consciousness bleed to nothing.

 


 

Slowly, Keith began to stir awake. A miasma of grogginess stunted his awareness, but it didn’t take long for him to realize he wasn’t alone. Another warm body was here, growling, significantly much larger than he was — and oh. Keith choked and wrestled against the weight behind his legs, but felt little response other than the werewolf’s sharp yellow eyes staring back. The wolf licked its chops as it celebrating a fresh kill, snout buried deep into the soiled folds of Keith’s cunt. Burning alarm immediately overcame him, but his struggle to break loose from his bindings nor the wolf’s weight were successful. Something had to be done — Keith couldn’t live with himself if he slept with a werewolf, an abomination according to the strict codes of his clan. In no way would he be able to redeem himself if anyone discovered he’d been put in such a humiliating situation. He felt like an object, a scarlet piece of flesh that was for the better part grounded by the threat of the werewolf’s massive fangs and claws.

“What are you – stop. Please. This isn’t right,” Keith shouted.

The werewolf snouted and picked up his snout, nose wet and flared with arousal. Keith bit his bottom lip and felt an excruciating pulsation in his stomach as if he were about to be sick.

“I thought I told you we’d find a compromise,” the wolf teased him. His voice was unwavering, completely confident in his actions. A growl rose from his throat, the deep vibrations rubbing against Keith’s bare naked chest as the wolf came closer.

“Please,” Keith begged, “Don’t do this. This is an abomination.”

“An abomination? The Rabbit Clan clearly has educated you under false pretenses. There is nothing wrong with what I’m about to do to you.”

“You’re wrong. We’re civilized. We don’t sleep with animals.”

The wolf blinked slowly at Keith, eyes piercing through the darkness of the den. Two golden slits with sharp, predatorial focus staring him down. Keith quickly became uncomfortable and whined, arching his back against the jagged ground in protest.

“And we’re told not to play with our food. But neither of us seem to care much for the rule of law around here, do we? Yell all you want, but no one is going to hear you. We’re in Wolf Clan territory now.”

A chill stabbed Keith’s spine. His mouth felt dry and weak, and his vision blurred between the smudged glow of the fire burning and the blackness of the den roof. If he’d merely been knocked unconscious, clearly he’d recover by now — unless the wolf had done something to him. The thought frightened Keith with what became an overwhelming sense of primordial panic, truly realizing that with no means to defend himself, little was preventing the werewolf from devouring himself after having his way. He was a meal. Just flesh.

Only seconds later did that panic finally begin to become physical repulsion. Keith struggled against the wire bound to his wrists but found even the rocks beneath did little to wear them down. Curses flooded his head, making him dizzy and unbalanced as the werewolf lowered himself closer to his body. A single, lengthy hot stroke of the wolf’s tongue curved his breasts, pressing down on the swollen nipple with a fierce hunger. Keith writhed and pulled against the sensation, but his only response was a grunt from deep within the wolf’s throat.

“You will regret resisting. Nothing is stopping me from gauging your throat open and simply going further from them. I rather like it when my prey is alive to struggle.”

“Gods, what did I do to deserve this. Isn’t there anything else you want?”

“Not quite. I believe this is the best option for you, isn’t it? If I can fill that fertile belly of your full of my pups and send you back to your clan, that is. They’ll notice you swelling up come spring and what then when the litter is born? You’ll have mouths to feed and have no choice but to come running back to me. I can’t think of anything more worth your time than returning to that pathetic stead of yours.”

Keith shuddered at the implications of the wolf’s words, his undiluted assurance that what was best for Keith despite everything he has said. The sickness in his stomach churned, even more, violent as he realized the wolf was determined to not only breed him but potentially mark him as a mate. At that point, there truly would be no turning back to the clan, nor any promise the wolf wouldn’t simply kill him on the spot once he was no longer entertaining.

The wolf’s massive tongue continued to massage his nipple, the thick heavy breath making Keith involuntarily moan as he swiftly bit down. Keith refused to cry and instead held on to his lip, shutting his eyes as to avoid the wolf’s intensifying stare. Continuing to leave marks along his clavicle and shoulder, the wolf didn’t hesitate to bite down on Keith’s neck, panting with excitement as he licked the swollen Adam’s apple of his throat. A dense wet substance splattered between Keith’s thighs, followed by a sloppy swollen weight that made Keith cringe with trepidation.

“How well-endowed you are,” the wolf mused. “Had I not known better, I would have assumed you’ve already nursed a litter of your own. The Rabbit Clan is notorious for such things, anyway.” Grazing his fangs along the fatty underside of his chest, the wolf bit almost playfully, as if to twist Keith into giving him some sort of pathetic response. Keith refuses, albeit painfully.

Before long the werewolf grew bored with his breasts and move on to his navel, pushing into the taut muscles with the rough pads of his paws. Keith attempted to throw the monster off him but to no avail. Rather than being offended, the wolf laughed and snarled with a dark delight.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not done with you yet.”

Lowering his snout back between Keith’s legs, the wolf wasted no time tasting the wet arousal dripping from his throbbing clit. Keith whined in discomfort, wanting to bolt as soon as the weight he felt earlier nudged against him without ceremony. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, curling his toes and stretching his thighs out as if it would mitigate the pressure. Unfortunately, this only seemed to encourage the werewolf to force himself past Keith’s tight wall, pushing through until Keith saw stars and felt a persistent sting in his cunt. The head of the wolf’s cock was wide enough to bump against the swollen violet tip of Keith’s clit, butting against the hood at an alarming rate. A steady stream of wet noises came from the wolf’s obvious pleasure, his mouth gnashing against Keith’s already bruised chest, and his daunting cock only barely fitting into the cusp of Keith’s entrance. Keith whined, felt his eyes prickle with tears as he inevitably felt something inside him tear, his cunt forced to accommodate to the impossible girth of the wolf’s engorged arousal.

Not yet satisfied with his results, the wolf growled ominously and breathed down the bare of Keith’s neck. The boy stiffened, noticing his arms had gone numb and he barely felt his ankles. The wire was tight enough to cut off his circulation, he realized; it was a surprise he recognized the symptoms of his own light-headedness. At this point, attempting to make a run for it would be foolish, nearly impossible with the total of the wolf’s body threatening to crush him. Keith closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the wolf’s black and white fur, the top of the wolfs head pressed against his chin as his hips instinctively assaulted Keith’s cunt. Nothing was going to get him through his, he realized. If this werewolf was going to breed him so be it. He’d have the pups in secret. He’d deal with the discomfort. But he couldn’t deal with returning to the clan grounds knowing what he had done. Sleeping with a werewolf was an abomination, yes, but he’d forfeit his own honor if it meant the safety of others.

“There, there, nothing to cry about,” the wolf reassured him. “When I’m done, I’ll let you go, belly full of my beautiful pups. How about that?”

“Thank-you,” Keith choked. He twisted his mouth as the words left him. He wanted to throw up.

“I’ll loosen you up nice and well, don’t you worry one bit.” With a solid, single thrust, the wolf’s cock thrust upwards against the roof of Keith’s cunt, forcing his resisting walls to stretch and barely squeeze the invader in. Halfway inside, the wolf growled and licked the side of Keith’s face, cherishing the newfound warmth inside his flesh-toy. As soon as the wolf bottomed out, he let out an undeniably animalistic moan that struck Keith with fear for his life. At any second, those powerful jaws could come ripping through his throat, faster than he would know. Keith licked his lips, tasting the sweat that’d accumulated from his forehead to his heaving chest. He’d die. He knew he’d die. There wasn’t any question about it now.

The wolf’s forceful thrusts became rapid, his paws now barely touching the ground as he determined to break through Keith’s weeping cunt. Keith cursed himself, gritting his teeth hoping for the worse it to be over, yet that relief never came. Finally, he felt a distinctive pop in his lower stomach, followed by a warm trickle of fluid threatening to drip off his thighs. Keith groaned and attempted to lift himself on his elbow to better see, however, the werewolf quickly stopped him with a single shove.

“You stay put. If you bleed, you bleed. This is nothing yet, whelp.”

“I wasn’t – I didn’t”

“I’ll let you go to lick your wounds after I’m done. You’re disgustingly tight. You must be special. How lucky I am to have you tonight.”

“Please,” Keith spat, “finish me and let me go. Don’t drag it on.”

A snarl. His body froze.

“Keep your pretty head on and I won’t have to drag it on any longer than necessary. Don’t forget – this is just a compromise. Think of all the good you’re doing. You should be grateful.”

Keith inhaled sharply.

“Thank-you,” he spat.

“Good boy.”

From the corner of his eye, Keith caught a glimpse of the wolf’s reddened cock, almost swollen to the width of his arm. Keith tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. A thick, sloppy noise repeated itself as the wolf pulled out, only to force himself back inside with a furious thrust. Keith muffled his cries through this, resisting to moan from the growing burn between his legs, the inevitable tears, and bruises the monster would leave. The stretch of the wolf inside him almost became bearable after what seemed like hours, until Keith realized he was only being prepared for what was next.

“Bear my pups,” the wolf demanded. “I’ll give you a very special gift. I’ll fill that womb of yours properly. This is something your clan will never be able to give you. Aren’t you glad?”

A moan from the wolf gave Keith pause, hanging on to this breath as the wolf’s mouth pant heavily down on his nape. A lengthy stroke of tongue traveled from his temple to shoulder, possessive and starving. As if he was disassociating, Keith wondered what he looked like to someone else, from the wolf’s point-of-view — just another victim of the most feared clan in the woodlands. The scene was almost pitiable, but Keith refused to feel sorry for himself. He gasped. Pulling out in one fluid motion, the sides of the wolf perked up as if the smirk with a nauseating pleasure.

“Have you had your fill yet? No? I have something special for you, then.”

Penetrating him again, the wolf spared no time sliding through Keith’s already spent cunt, this time growling with approval as Keith reacted with a surprised buck of his hips. Keith found himself in a cold sweat, almost choking from the back of his mouth as the heated tip of the wolf’s head bumped aggressively against his cervix. The pain was sustainable, yet Keith’s thighs trembled with some other sensation, shaking only harder as the wolf made one final thrust as the base struck the opening of his folds. Keith hiccupped, tears threatening to fall before the wolf hungrily lapped them up, wasting no effort to graze his cheek with pointed fangs.

“Do you feel that, whelp? No use pulling out now. Feel how deep I am? You opened up nice and wide for me. What a good boy. Everyone will be so proud of you when you come home.”

“No,” Keith choked. “No.”

“Good enough,” the wolf spat, “you’re deserving of all this either way. Don’t forget you’re in our territory. I’ll make a meal of you as soon as I’m done.”

With that, the wolf made another growl rivaling the bestial moan from earlier. Keith’s blood ran cold again, his instincts telling him to run, adrenaline running wild through is veins. Another surge of electricity seemingly thrust between his legs, and Keith gasped for air as he felt the entrance of cunt forced open again. Soaked and already pushed past its limits, the base of the wolf’s cock readily swelled and thickened at an alarming rate. A knot pushed through the clenched muscle, stripping through any resistance Keith made as it firmly planted itself deeper. The growing pressure against the roof of his cunt was already excruciating. Keith tossed his head aside despite the werewolf’s insistent growls that he stay put. But friction combined with the knot’s heated presence made Keith pant and grow red in the face, as if he’d become intoxicated just by having the last of his barriers broken down.

“Now, that’s right. You’re so very good. Just a little more.” Between deep breaths, hot air rushed down from the wolf’s agape mouth, wet nose forced against Keith’s temple as the wolf instinctively arched his back. Keith whined, shutting his eyes as the knot grew to its full size around the opening of his cunt, locking itself deeper in place to the wolf’s pleasure. The stretch felt grotesquely right – Keith felt ashamed of the thought, yet forced his thighs wider apart as to accommodate the new size of the cock buried between his folds. Stars blurred his vision. Something was maddening about the burn, the pain that seemingly whitened his sight from the wolf grunting before coming. A sticky substance pooled out from his stuffed cunt, already overburdened and now flooded with the wolf’s thick seed.

“There – how is that? Do you realize how much you’ve done, whelp? You were so very obedient.”

Keith stifled a moan, unbearably sore and exhausted. He exhaled after holding his breath for so long and stared back into the wolf’s unflinching eyes. Without saying anything else, he let himself fall back to the ground as the wolf quickly pulled out, the weighty head of its cock wetting his thighs as hot come dribbled out. A mess. Keith’s face burned. He’d made a mess of myself he would never be able to clean. Arms still tied, Keith attempted to maneuver himself sitting up, but felt a heavy paw fall back on to his chest, pinning him down into the ground.

“No, not yet,” the wolf commanded, “you stay. For the night. You’re in no state to travel back home.”

“But – why…” Keith resisted arguing, for the sake of keeping his heart beating. But the question threatened to leave his lips with a fury. “You already got what you wanted.”

“Ask me again, and I will not hesitate to rip your throat out,” the wolf growled. “There are some customs I need not explain yet. I will keep you in my den until I see fit. Dawn is breaking soon. Rest.”

Keith groaned with discomfort, but couldn’t deny the forces demanding he sleep, eyes heavy and body hopelessly exhausted. His black hair was astray, messy with sweat as the pads of the wolf’s feet lifted itself around him, coming to house themselves beside his bound arms. No, there wasn’t any guarantee he’d be properly set free any time soon, but at least he wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of sleeping alone with his thoughts.

Perhaps the wolf’s words were true – for the safety of the clansground, at least. Keith felt his stomach twist, feeling the hot fluid inside him gurgle with a satisfactory noise. Full – he felt so incredibly full and expended. Sleep came naturally, tugging him in and out of consciousness until the wolf’s mighty snout nuzzled itself against his chest with a possessive snort. Without question, Keith knew he’d survive long enough to plan an escape, but for now, he forfeited the thought for a hard-earned return to unconsciousness. The full moon finally settled outside the den, and from the lilac glow between the trees, Keith saw the bleeding sun emerge before finally submitting to dreams of wolves.