As he approached us, he picked up speed.
Don sighed. “Fucking little brats.” He drew his claws.
“No, wait! Shamar’s not himself. Please don’t kill him!” I threw myself onto his legs like that would hold Don back from attacking Shamar. It was laughable, though. Don easily dragged me along. “Please wait!” Don growled, approaching Shamar. “Wait! Please! This was my fault! I should have listened to you. Please, Don, please!”
Shamar lunged at us—hands reaching. Wails and furious snarls escaping his lips.
Don caught him up by the scruff of his neck. Holding Shamar dangling off the ground. Shamar swung his arms, trying to grab Don, but he couldn’t reach. As a werewolf, Don dwarfed my friends, making them like the gnats outside were to me.
“Don, please! Please don’t kill him! Please!” I had begun to cry. My sobs choked me up. “Please, I fucked up! Me. Not him—he’s my best friend!”
“Be quiet already.” Don sounded annoyed. Grabbing me with his other hand, he yanked me off his legs and held me out to his other side. When he noticed my presence, Shamar stopped trying to grab Don and instead reached for me.
“Bbbraaaains!”
“Fuck, this is annoying.” Don’s anger grew. “And not how I fucking wanted to spend my night.” He walked us around to the front of Shamar’s house, then dropped me, and I fell, muddying my knees. He knocked on the door, still holding a thrashing Shamar. Losing his patience, he banged on the door louder.
The door cracked open. Shamar’s grandmother, an old witch doctor, stood in the doorway, dressed in her nightgown. Also a zombie, she resembled her grandson a little with the same green skin and wide black eyes. Her face held indignation before she saw Shamar thrashing in Don’s grip.
“Sorry to bother you,” Don spoke nicely to her despite his gruffness. “My idiot mate interrupted Shamar, and this happened.” He brought Shamar before his grandma.
“Oh, dear…” Shaking her head, she rushed into the house. Her voice carried from behind the door. “Hold him for a second longer.” She came out with a voodoo doll that looked exactly like Shamar. She closed the doll’s arms together. Shamar stopped reaching out blindly, his arms resting by his side. Then she did the same with his legs before she made him sit. I stood there flabbergasted that she could move Shamar in that fashion.
“Now, be silent, you.” Her tone was on the chastising side, and it reminded me of a witch I’d seen once disciplining her cat. She closed her hand around the doll’s head, then used her finger to swipe down over its eyes, nose, and finally mouth. At the touch of the doll’s eyes, Shamar closed his. When she got to his mouth, he stopped biting the air in a wild frenzy. “Now that’s better.” She smiled like a witch who’d finished stirring her cauldron.
“Very sorry about this.” Don grabbed me by the shoulder and tugged me over. “Apologize, Fern, for the trouble you caused.” I felt like an unruly pup, but it was my fault, not Shamar’s, so it wouldn’t be fair to get him in trouble.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I thought Shamar was sick, so I decided to check on him and make sure he was okay.”
She nodded. “Praise the loa, you’ve got this one here,” she pointed at Don. “Else, I’d be cleaning your brains off my yard tomorrow.”
“Really, really sorry, Ganmi.” It meant grandma in Zandien—the language most zombies used—and was one of the few words Shamar had taught me.
“I know, Fern. You’re forgiven.” She looked to Don, then nodded at Shamar. “Thank you for not killing him.”
Don gave her a smile. “Good night, again, sorry to have troubled you.”
The moment she shut the door, Don growled at me. My stomach fluttered—anxiety setting in. He was livid. He was going to beat me for sure.
“Come on.” Giving me one last growl, he headed toward his parked car. I dragged my feet. Palpable tension filled the space between us.
We drove in silence. Every so often, he growled low, and it stole my attention.
Finally, we arrived at his place—it didn’t feel like our place, just his. Not since I had first come to stay with him did I dread entering it as much as I did right then. His silence was killing me.
“Um, Don?”
“Did I ask you to talk?”
I flinched at his sharp tone and shook my head. It pissed me off, my rebellious side fought for control, but my self-preservation had full reign.
He got out of the car, and even though he didn’t slam the door behind him, it still sounded loud. I felt the tremors from the force. I couldn’t stay in the car forever, but I didn’t want to go inside. There lay my doom. I wanted to stay in the car. But this was ridiculous. If I didn’t get out, he would most likely drag me out like he had before.
Slowly, I exited the car. He wasn’t waiting for me at the door.
That shocked me. I wanted to run because I knew he would hurt me the moment I entered the house. But at the same time, I didn’t. Inside, somewhere, I longed to have him submit me. To be beneath him. Apologizing. Servicing him. Being punished by him.
My body tingled as I walked to the door. I wanted him to hurt me. To make me sorry I ever defied him. I was his beta. I didn’t have that right. He needed to put me in my place. My instincts craved it, almost like I would lose respect for him if he wasn’t on me the moment I stepped through the door.
I paused; my rational brain screamed, trying to take control. No. I don’t want to be punished. I haven’t done anything to deserve punishment. Shamar needed me. Right?
My hand rested on the doorknob, but I couldn’t open it.
He would hurt me.
I wanted him to hurt me.
But I didn’t. I didn’t want that. I dreaded it.
How long would he be patient with me? Maybe he’d think I’d tried to run away again. That made me tremble. I wanted to run, to run away and never come back. But my instincts were strong, calling me to walk into my doom.
Opening the door, I stepped inside.
Don stood in the hallway. His handsome features were a mixture of werewolf and wereduin. “Get over here, beta.” I flinched like he had struck me. “You deliberately disobeyed me.” His eyes narrowed. “Come here!”
I shuffled my feet until I stood before him. He towered over me, and our massive height difference had never been more apparent.
Immediately, I felt weak. I wanted to bow before him. All my resolve abandoned me as my beta instincts kicked in.
“What do you say, beta?” Don grabbed my head and forced me to look at the floor. I yelped as it was the spot where Shamar had bitten me earlier. “Yes, it hurts. And it could’ve been a lot worse.”
I swallowed.
“I told you from the beginning that I wouldn’t tolerate disobedience. Didn’t I?”
My beta instincts craved this, and I had no choice but to surrender to them. Already he was using his alpha prowess against me.
I nodded.
“Answer me, beta.”
“Yes, you said that.”
“And still you chose to defy me.”
Punish me. Punish me. Make me beg. Make me regret ever leaving—for even thinking that I had the choice.
Shit. What the hell? Stupid thoughts. Shut the fuck up. But there was no stopping them.
“You said it, and I disobeyed.”
Don snorted. The next thing I knew, he had me over his shoulder. I thought he’d take me into the bedroom and submit me like normal. Instead, he went into the living room.
My heart was trapped in my throat as my stomach knotted. Somewhere underneath my instincts, I hated showing him submission. But I didn’t have the right to voice that. At this moment, he was king.
He dropped me onto the couch. Even against the soft cushion, his force still knocked the wind out of me. “Stand up.”
I stood. He sat on the couch. His posture was erect, focused.
His mouth curved into a smile, but there was nothing friendly about it. “You disobeyed me, like a little pup. So now, you will b
e punished like one. Take off your pants.” He leered at me. “Roll them down to your ankles, don’t step out of them. Do it!”
My fingers trembled for a moment as I undid my fly then brought my pants—still damp from the mud—all the way down.
His hand cupped my groin, and I hardened beneath his touch. “That’s right. Your body already accepts my ownership. It wants to be punished.” He was right, and the goosebumps that sprinkled my arms and legs confirmed it. “Now your panties.” He gave me a squeeze before he let go.
I wore the equivalent of tighty-whities and burned with embarrassment. Did he have to call them that? “Fuck…”
With an open palm, he smacked me across the cheek, and it turned my head. It startled me more than hurt.
“Did I ask you to talk?” Shivering and stunned, I shook my head. “Then, don’t talk.” He leaned back and massaged my balls with his socked foot. Heat collected in my groin, and I failed to stifle my moan. “What are you waiting for? Remove your panties.” I hated him calling them that, even more humiliation…I hated it. But I had no choice. He could seriously hurt me if he wanted to. Slowly, I tugged down my underwear until they joined my pants around my ankles. “Get over here.” He grabbed my arm and had me over his knee.
“W-Wait. I’m not.” I wanted to struggle, but instead, I stayed perfectly still, regardless of my protests. “Not a pup…”
He squeezed my ass cheek and teased, “You are to me.” He dug his claws into the meaty part of my ass, and it hurt, but it felt grounding too, like his claws anchored me to my proper place. I still tried not to show it. Yes, he had the upper hand at that moment, but I had my pride. Maybe I couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean I would give him the satisfaction by crying out.
His hand smacked hard against my bare ass, and I jumped. It stung. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left a large, red handprint on me.
His hand rose, then came down hard on my ass again. I bunched my lips together, trying to contain any sounds. He struck me again and again. And again. His open-palmed hand smacked against my skin. The pain was getting unbearable, and I wanted to get away.
He leaned closer. “What’s this? Not gonna cry, my little pup?” I bit my lip at another hard smack. “Holding out on me, huh?” A devious edge entered his tone. “We’ll see who can hold out the longest. I will not stop spanking you until I have you crying in my lap.” I screwed my lips together. No way in hell, I was giving him that satisfaction.
Air whooshed against my back as his hand drew back. Whack. Smack. Down and down it came. My ass stung, some of my skin prickled with blood. This time when his hand came down, he extended his claws, and I lost the battle and yelped in pain.
“Ah,” he said, voice smooth as butter. “You liked that one, huh?” With every spanking, his claws dug into my ass until he had me crying out. “This is the one that does it?” He didn’t always use his claws, but now that he had broken skin, every whack hurt. He spanked me so hard, I became delirious, my ass heating up.
“S-Stop.”
“What was that?” I doubted he could hear my whimper over his angry tone. “Did you say something?” Again and again, he spanked me. I shook my head. He covered my mouth with his other hand. “Do you wish to say something to me?” He squeezed my mouth tighter, and I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. “Well, do you?”
I shook my head, digging my fingernails into my fists to have some control. He was hurting me so badly. But I was growing hard. The tip of my cock dripped with my beta juices.
He leaned down and purred into my ear. “Are you hard, my pet?”
I whimpered. His hand raised again, but this time, he rubbed my ass, smearing the blood. It felt soothing. There was something else too. Don used his alpha prowess to soothe the burning. He rubbed my ass gently, and I moaned against his palm. It felt amazing.
His hand went away. When he returned, I expected to get more fondling, so his sharp smack had me crying out—my muffled cries hidden behind his hand. The pain, the pleasure, continued. He would rub my ass to soothe my bruised skin before he returned to spanking me.
Finally, I was at my limit. Pain and pleasure mixing into something unnamable—my mind escaping to a place where they became interchangeable.
He grabbed my hips and lifted me off his lap, then I was face down on the couch. I ground into the leather to relieve my aching erection. His heavy weight on my back stopped all movement, and I whined helplessly, but he wouldn’t allow me to move. This was yet another punishment.
“Not tonight, Fern. Tonight, only I will be coming. You,” he nipped my ear, pressing more weight onto me until breathing grew difficult, “will take it up the ass until I’ve had my fill of you. Until you learn your place is beneath me, obeying me.” He didn’t prepare me, but my beta juices already streamed down my cheeks. His cock felt harder, thicker, and it spread my hole wide like he was nailing me to the couch.
He pumped my ass, fucking me rough and brutal, and it shook my body. With his weight on me, there was no way I could come. Whenever I came close, he reached between my legs and squeezed my balls. I cried out in pain. Streams of tears trailed down my face.
“No, Fern. Not tonight. Tonight, you will serve me completely. And until I say otherwise, you won’t be coming at all.”
I whimpered in pain, pleasure, frustration, and want. He fucked me until he filled my ass with his cum, but he didn’t knot me. Instead, he ground against me until he grew hard again and then returned to thrusting.
All night he fucked me. My hole ached, and my back was sore.
It was early in the morning when he finally got off me. I tried to stand, but I staggered. I would have fallen but Don caught me.
“You’re not going to bed, Fern.”
“What? Why?” I was sexually frustrated and exhausted.
“Because you’re not. I don’t need to give you any reason.” He got behind me and pulled me flat against his chest. “You won’t be going to school today either. I’ve got other plans for you.” He took me into the bedroom. “Starting with this.” We stopped at the dogwood. “You broke it, you fix it.”
“But, I’m tired.”
“How’s that my problem?”
“And sore.”
He laughed, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “And you’re going to get even sorer.” Going over to the dresser, he pulled out a black butt plug. “This is going up your ass until I say otherwise.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t underplaying my soreness. He had fucked me so hard through the night, and I didn’t even have the blissfulness of orgasm to numb my mind periodically.
I shook my head and darted for the door. “No! No, it’ll hurt!”
He trapped me in his strong arms. “Then you should’ve thought about that before disobeying me, destroying my house, and nearly getting yourself killed. Nearly killing your zombie friend too. If I had been in the mood for blood, I would’ve ended him.”
As he spoke, I struggled with him, but he got the plug near my ass and stuffed it inside, clogging up my channel. I quivered, all strength leaving me.
“This. Right here. I want you to feel this. Every time you disobey me, I will punish you like this, for as long as I want, doing what I want. You belong to me, Fern. You are my little beta, and you will obey me, or I will break you open from the inside out.” I sagged against his chest. The plug reawakened my soreness and fatigue, and I had no way to fight him. “Now shift into a werewolf.”
Holding me captive in his arms, his alpha prowess invaded my senses and called to me. My body began to transform as if beyond my control. His influence must have provided me with some strength; that was the only way I could shift, given my depleted energy levels.
In werewolf form, I knew he found me beautiful. Unlike alphas, beta bodies were graceful and humanoid, not rippled with muscles. Our fur wasn’t as thick and much softer. He licked my neck and nibbled my skin, teasing my nipples from underneath my shirt. “I am going to have you replace the netting.” The moment he left m
e, I slumped to the floor. My body too weak to hold me up.
“I-I can’t.”
He returned with some sealant netting and—
A cock cage?
He was serious about not letting me come. At this point, I would even need his permission to pee. I didn’t have the energy to fight him when he caged me. He dragged me over to the dogwood. “Now climb and fix it.”
I stared at him, helpless, falling asleep. “I-I can’t. I’ll fall.”
He smirked. “Then, you fall.”
Asshole. Fucker. I was too exhausted to voice anything. It was all my tired brain could do to not sink to my knees.
He helped me mount the tree. “If you fall, I won’t catch you. Remember this the next time you even think of defying me.”
My arms shaking, I pulled myself up, digging my claws in. That was the only thing holding me to the tree.
“Aren’t you forgetting the netting?”
Godsdamn asshole. Fucker. Fucking ass jerk.
I paused and crawled down a little until I could take the netting from his hand.
“Well, get moving. I don’t have all day.”
I fucking hate you. I hate you. Asshole. Fucking asshole.
“I know you do.”
I must’ve spoken at least some of that out loud.
“Let this be a lesson to you. Now move.”
The butt plug made my knees weak, and the cage kept getting caught on the tree’s bark. Thanking every deity I could think of that this wasn’t the oak tree I was climbing, I dragged my ass up the entire trunk to the slashed-up netting at the top. I carried the new netting between my teeth.
“If you make a mess up there, what you’ve experienced so far will be trivial by comparison.”
My body trembled. The plug made my legs wobbly as pleasure danced along my back, but the cock cage secured my dick and tightened painfully around my balls. There was no way I’d come.
Reaching up, I slashed the old netting until it came free, and the entire sheet fell to the ground. Taking the new netting from my mouth, I went about fixing it into place with one hand. All the while, I barely hung on to the tree with the other. If I wasn’t a werewolf and using my full-length claws as anchors, I’d have fallen for sure. It was a wonder I could even maintain werewolf form at this point, and that had me thanking the Gods even more, for someone up in the Moon Vale loved me. That, or somehow Don’s influence was still fueling me a bit.
The Offering Page 11
