To Serve an Alpha (Rape Stories, Forced Sex, BBW Werewolf Breeding) (2 page)

When I looked into his eyes again, however, I did see something else. Within his steely silver eyes, there was a flicker of lust, of animalistic passion; the way he looked at me resembled the way a beast in the wild would regard a chosen mate or a piece of prey. There was indeed something animalistic in those eyes. The thought that my captor and rapist might actually be a werewolf sent a sexually-charged chill through my body before sending me spinning into a third, mind-blowing orgasm.

“Cum for me, please!” I suddenly cried out, without thinking, “Give me your seed! I need it deep inside me!”

My rashly uttered words elicited a complete change in my kidnapper’s rutting. With a snarl, his thrusts doubled in fury and he released my arms in order to grip the mattress with his hands, digging his claw-like nails into the soft material. I was captivated and frozen with terror by the look on his face now, one of genuinely bestial lust and fury. His eyes glinted exactly like a wolf’s and his pearly white teeth were bared. My heart skipped every other beat as I gazed at his slightly over-sized canines, which no normal human could possibly have. The man must have been a werewolf. But why would he take a human woman back to his den to ravish in this way?

It was a wonder I could even contemplate such a question as I wrapped my arms around his enormously powerful neck and shoulders in order to hold on for dear life. His superhuman sexual skill was beyond comprehension as he drove me to a fourth orgasm and made me scream in almost painful climax. My pussy was generating so much lubricant to accommodate this beast’s massive cock and the savage thrusts he inflicted upon me that the sound of rapid-fire liquid squelching had been added to the hard slapping of his hips into my groin and his huge nut-sack into my butt cheeks.

Finally, it was my captor’s turn to climax. His intensity built and I could see his face become more contorted with ravenous lust until he threw back his head and let out a truly inhuman howl, thrusting his mighty cock as deeply into my cunt as possible. I was so intoxicated by raw feminine lust that all I could do was lie there in awe at my kidnapper’s distilled sexual fury. His white hot liquid ecstasy gushed into me, pulsing in powerful jets as I was filled to the brim, claiming me for his own. I arched my back and pushed my hips back at him to get as much of his virile seed inside me.

We remained in that position for god knows how long before he finally lowered himself down on top of me, still buried up to the groin inside his conquest. He began to rub his body against me, nuzzling his face into my neck, almost as if he were marking me with his scent. Still overcome with lust and the blazing afterglow of sex, I wrapped my arms around my conqueror and held him close to me, reveling in the sensation of his muscular body pressed against mine. I felt truly conquered. I rejected most of the assholes who hit on me, and I could kick the crap out of any ordinary guy who wouldn’t take a hint; but not this person. I had no idea what pheromones he exuded that stifled my resistance, but I had never stood a chance.

***

             
When I awoke, I was still in the cave, still lying naked on the giant mattress underneath the sheets. It was pitch black, so I couldn’t see anything; but I could feel that I was on my stomach this time, sprawled across a giant human chest, no doubt the man who had taken me so vigorously. Common sense told me I should flee, but my body didn’t want to move; I was comfortable and safe in his arms, and it made no sense. In any case, his arms were wrapped protectively across my back, so I probably couldn’t escape even if I could have mustered the mental strength to do so.

             
“You stir from slumber.” my captor noted with an impossibly deep voice.

             
“Yes.” I answered, unable to suppress a note of fear in my voice.

             
“You have nothing to fear from me, my dear.” My captor continued, “I will not harm you whilst you remain here, and I will answer any questions you have as best I can.”

             
“What are you?” I asked, afraid of the possible answer.

             
“I am what your kind calls a ‘werewolf’,” he answered frankly, “though I prefer lycanthrope, it sounds more dignified to me.” A knot of terror seized my stomach, but my captor caressed my hair with his hand and inexplicably dispelled my fear.

             
“Do not fear, little thing,” he said soothingly, “I have no taste for human flesh. And even if I did, the moon codes strictly forbid the eating of humans.” I had absolutely no idea what the ‘moon codes’ were, but I was relieved by his assurance that he wasn’t planning to make dinner out of me, even if I had no way of verifying his promise.

             
“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 100
th
‘Time of Breeding’, I was his 103
rd
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 103
rd
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.”