by L. C. Davis
“Welcome gentlemen, to the twelfth annual Alpha's Pet Contest!” It was a male voice I didn't recognize. It didn't sound like a Wolf, though. I was beginning to realized they followed a certain type: Big, burly and blunt. This guy had too much showmanship.
“Thank you for that warm welcome for all our lovely pups. As you can see, this year's competition will be twice as fierce as ever. Now I'm going to go over the rules for the newcomers. The first three elimination rounds will be decided by your applause, so make it count. Once we have our three finalists, the big dogs themselves will be deciding which pet on this stage is good enough to win our cash prize of ten thousand dollars, an exclusive photoshoot with Pretty Pup Magazine, and a highly coveted dungeon session with the Alpha himself.”
The crowd cheered, and so did the contestants. I managed a small, unenthusiastic clap. I tried to remind myself that this was for the experience - and just a little bit to stick my middle finger up at Jeff - and summoned all the school spirit I could muster.
One by one, they introduced us by name and little else. No get-to-know-you trivia or essay questions. This wasn't Miss America and no one was pretending otherwise. I was in the second to last row and was more than grateful for the lack of formality when the announcer merely stated my name without any questions or gimmicks.
I turned as the others had done, though with admittedly less flair. I was beginning to regret my decision once stage fright had set in. I could see the audience a little clearer now and finally found Arthur. He looked worried, so I flashed a smile to show him that I was okay and not angry anymore. When I got off this stage, I'd have to make it up to him for jumping to conclusions.
He returned the smile with a relieved one of his own. It comforted me enough to abort any burgeoning plans of diving off the pedestal and running off the stage. However I had gotten there wasn't my choice, but I was determined to regain control by finishing on my terms.
The announcer moved on and the crowd applauded for the few contestants behind me. It was only then that I noticed the meter slightly offstage. I hadn't seen one of those since the last cheesy 90s game show I watched. Were they even scientifically accurate? Or maybe the whole thing was rigged.
Well, that was a comforting thought. That way there was no way I'd win and have to follow through on my half-cocked plan to give the Alpha a piece of my mind.
“Alright,” the announcer began a few moments later. “I think it's obvious, but we've compared scores on our applause meter and your stage two competitors are Charles, John, Maverick, Casey S., Lindon, Douglas, Avery and Remus!”
I nearly fell off the pedestal in surprise. Stage two?
“Round two will begin now,” the announcer said. “If your name wasn't called, please carefully make your way off your pedestal and return to the audience.”
Chaos reigned for the next two minutes. Some guys were crying, others were cursing, but one way or another, the stage hands got them offstage. My head was spinning as I processed what was going on. The announcer was already reiterating the rules for round two as I began to realize that I had made it into the final nine. An applause meter technician was seriously in order.
“Round two begins!” The announcer wandered over to Maverick. Fortunately, Maverick would win. He was easily the most beautiful one out of all of us, and that seemed to be what everyone preferred in a sub, whether he would admit there was a type or not. He was a sweetheart, too. It showed through even though he hadn't said a word onstage.
I, on the other hand, probably looked like a nervous wreck.
The applause for Maverick was expectedly uproarious. The others paled in comparison to the point where I imagined it would be difficult to even tell who else deserved to be in the final three. Then the announcer made his way over to me.
To my shock and horror, I received just as much applause as Maverick. Suddenly, remaining in the contest didn't seem like such a good idea. Not if winning was an actual possibility. Whether the applause meter was broken or not, the crowd needed an emergency ophthalmologist, stat.
“And there you have it,” said the announcer. “I don't think it's any big surprise that Maverick and Remus will be moving on as our finalists, and Casey S. will be joining them. We'll be taking a short intermission, so head to the bar, grab a drink and prepare to watch our judges vote on your new Alpha's Pet!”
The curtains began to close, I hoped before Arthur could see the petrified look on my face. The wolves were choosing? I began to think he'd mentioned something about that in the car, but I hadn't paid much attention. Sebastian was one of the wolves. The wolf, from the way Maverick told it. If he was the one who'd entered me in this competition and he was judging, maybe I really would win.
My bravery vanished as I realized that there was no way I could actually approach the Alpha. But I wasn't about to take the prize, either. He was one of the most important people in town, from the sound of things. I had enough rich and powerful enemies to contend with. This was probably just the West Coast version of Mr. Alderdice, Jeff's father. What was I thinking?
My head throbbed and I began to sway. The more I struggled to keep my balance, the worse it got. It was a hell of a time for an episode, but thinking of Jeff always seemed to trigger one. The stage hand was still helping Maverick off his pedestal. I was going down and there was nothing to stop me.
“Whoa there!”
Suddenly, huge hands grabbed my waist. Before I could steady myself, I was lifted off the pedestal completely and placed on the ground with a surprising amount of care.
I looked up in shock at the sight of my rescuer. It was Sebastian.
“You alright? That was almost bad,” he said with what seemed to be genuine concern.
If it had been anyone else, I would have already been thanking them profusely. Since it was him, I was a bit wary to accept the act of kindness.
“I'm fine. Thanks for your help, but I could really do without any more of it,” I muttered, brushing past him.
“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing the chain dangling from my cuffs and jerking it like a leash. The snaps on the cuff popped off, leaving my arm exposed.
I whirled around and clutched it to my chest. “Give me that!” I cried fearfully.
He held it out of my reach and in doing so pulled me closer. “What the hell was that about?”
“I need that,” I said, grabbing at it while keeping my arm pressed against my chest.
“Not until you tell me why I'm getting the cold shoulder,” he said. “Usually you at least give a guy the chance to break the ice before that happens.”
I frowned. “You can stop pretending, I know what you did.”
“Great, then you can fill me in, because I have no clue what you're talking about,” he said firmly.
I stifled a frustrated growl. Normally I wasn't a hot tempered person, but there was something about Sebastian that pressed all my buttons. I'd barely known him a couple of hours but he already seemed to have a usual manual.
He laughed.
“I'm glad you find this funny, because I don't.”
“Well maybe it's not, but how am I supposed to know if you won't tell me what it is?” he demanded.
I held my palm up as high as I could without revealing my forearm since he insisted on playing dumb. “This.”
“Oh,” he said, scratching the five o'clock shadow forming on his jaw. “That.”
I gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah. That. I've been getting weird looks all night because of your weird stamp.”
He breathed what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “That's what's got you all worked up? It's just my personal seal.”
“Why do I have it?” I asked warily.
He shrugged. “I think you're cute. I wanted to talk to you, so it's there to make sure no one else goes after you.”
“If that's all then why have I been getting weird looks from the staff?” I challenged.
He scratched the back of his head and grimaced a little. If the sheepish
farm boy routine was an act, it was a good one. “Yeah, well, I've never used it before. They were probably just surprised.”
That startled me. I couldn't hide my surprise, either. “But you used it on me.”
“Yeah,” he said with another shrug. “Guess I felt a connection or something. I dunno, my brother's the one who's into all that syrupy stuff. I think you're cute, let's leave it at that.”
The answer was so simple it was both unbelievable and unquestionable. I sighed, feeling my previous rage slip from my grasp.
And then I remembered the competition.
“That still doesn't explain why you signed me up for this silly competition,” I said with renewed indignation.
“Huh?” He was feigning ignorance again.
At least he dropped my cuff in his confusion. I snatched it up and carefully snapped it back on, hoping no one had seen what was underneath. My caution drew his focus, but fortunately he didn't have time to ask.
“Curtain call in three minutes! Guys, get in your places,” Clarence yelled.
I snapped the last closure in place and straightened my back in an attempt to fortify my retreating confidence. “Play innocent all you want. We'll see what your Alpha thinks.”
I didn't wait for his reaction to start getting back on the pedestal. Maybe I needed his help, but that didn't mean I wanted it.
Not that he gave me a choice in the matter. He grabbed me again and hoisted me up onto the sleek white disk with such swift ease I couldn't even struggle. Whatever kibble they were feeding the Wolves was doing its job.
To my surprise, his expression wasn't a gloating one. His eyes were downcast and his lips were pressed into a troubled line. “He'll think you're perfect.”
He said it so matter-of-factly and with a slightly sour tone, making it impossible to take it entirely as a compliment.
“Offstage, everyone but the contestants and the announcer!” cried an increasingly harried stagehand.
Sebastian stepped back into the shadows of the hallway and disappeared before I could ask him about his strangely ominous comment.
Maverick was helped onto a pedestal in my row but towards the middle of the stage. He winked at me as the curtain began to rise. “Good luck,” he mouthed.
“You too,” I said, embarrassed that I'd somehow gotten so far. I noticed that another row of chairs had been placed in front of the Red Member section. Maybe the complainers had finally gotten their wish. Maverick managed to stay poised somehow but I squinted and raised my hand to block out the glare.
It took only a moment for my eyes to adjust enough to the light that I realized that wasn't the case at all. The row was filled with half a dozen men, each one in some variation of what I had come to recognize as wolf pack dress code. I recognized one of them as the bouncer who'd kept Arthur offstage and unceremoniously dumped me in the dressing room.
There was one empty chair, for Sebastian I assumed, but the man in the next seat over was what drew my attention. He was staring straight at me. I couldn't even tell what color his eyes were from that distance, but I could feel them burning holes in me. His elegant attire and sleek black hair were instantly recognizable. It was the man who had been reading in the lobby. Whether the intensity was the product of rage or something else equally fiery, I couldn't tell. Neither option seemed like a good one.
Whatever I had done to earn the ire of a wolf, I already regretted it.
5
I swallowed hard as I struggled to maintain eye contact with the furious Wolf. As difficult as it was, I couldn't break away. Something held me fast in its grasp. It was an eerily familiar feeling that I had experienced only once before, when my first-year psychology professor invited a hypnotherapist to demonstrate trance induction in class. I became lightheaded again, but I knew that Sebastian wouldn't be there to catch me again.
As if reading my thoughts, the hulking wolf took the last empty seat, rounding out a full pack of six. Even sitting down, the size difference between he and the others was obvious. It was especially noticeable between he and the wolf beside him, who was hardly lacking in stature himself.
I redirected my attention to Arthur, who was cheering with the rest of the crowd and most of the wolves. I couldn't help but glance back to see Sebastian nudge his reading seat mate. He leaned in to whisper something and looked straight up at me.
I averted my eyes, pretending to look at the crowd, but I watched them out of the corner of my eye. The wolf who had been glaring at me not a minute before straightened up stiffly at whatever Sebastian had told him.
They were both looking at me. Whatever had been said, I could tell the bookwolf didn't like it. A whispered exchange left me even more in doubt as he patted Sebastian on the back and smiled.
I couldn't take anymore. I searched the other five faces in the front row for a distraction. Whatever it was about me that had those two so fixated, the rest didn't seem to notice. They looked between us all equally and looked like they were eying a meal that was soon to come.
I knew the wolf title was just a gimmick, but something about their hungry stares still made me uneasy. Still, it was more welcome than the strange looks I was getting from the other two. I regretted ever coming here. I should have been having coffee with Professor Winters, not dangling on a stage like meat to bait a pack of wild dogs.
The one silver lining of Jeff's jealousy had been that we never went out to clubs. I rarely had to deal with this kind of attention, and certainly never in such quantities. Now my shield was gone and I was as alone as I was exposed.
“Okay wolf pack,” the announcer began. “You know what to do. It's time to rate each contestant and make each vote count, because your scores will determine which of these sexy little subs gets to become your Alpha's new pet!”
One of the wolves I didn't recognize threw his head back and let out a cheesy howl. The crowd laughed.
“I love you, Brendan!” someone cried from the back of the room.
Brendan made a “call me” motion and laughed it off jovially. His buddy beside him ruffled his messy brown hair.
“Alright alright, let's settle down. Wolves, take a good look at our contestants and start scoring.”
I could feel a few sets of eyes on me, but Maverick's name was being whispered throughout the front row quite excitedly. Good. This had gone far enough. I could just chalk it up to a terrible idea fueled by some potent top shelf whine and leave it at that.
Against my better judgment, I looked at Sebastian again. He wasn't writing at all, or maybe he had already finished. I didn't doubt I would have at least one vote, considering it was his fault I was up there in the first place. He didn't look happy, though. His eyes bored into me intently, but it wasn't the same as before. Someone said my name and his gaze shifted to him in an instant, turning fiery.
I had to be imagining it, but it looked like his upper lip curled into a snarl. The wolf beside him put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.
He sat back in his chair, but the calm seemed to come grudgingly.
Great. I had a new would-be possessive boyfriend and we'd only learned each other's names a few hours ago.
Arthur had been so insistent that this night would change my reservations about bdsm, and it had. Just not in the way he had probably intended. This entire evening had left me wanting nothing more than a cold shower and a few dozen cats to ensure that no man wanted anything to do with me ever again. Surely I had been gifted with the psycho drawing pheromone.
One of the others mouthed, “What the fuck, bro?”
Sebastian lunged again and I thought a fight was destined to break out before the winner could even be announced. Poor Maverick. He deserved to have a special moment, and I was going to indirectly be the cause it was ruined.
“Alright gentlemen,” said the announcer, apparently sensing the tension in the front row. “I know you all have strong opinions, but let's hand in those papers to our lovely Clara and let the numbers decide.”
Clara came
around and started collecting the score sheets. Sebastian handed his in grudgingly.
I gulped.
“Thank you,” said the announcer. “Now, while the results are being tallied, why don't we let each of our contestants say a brief word about why they hope they win.”
He put the microphone in front of Casey's face first. “It's my dream to be dominated by the Alpha of the dungeon,” he replied with a sultry little giggle.
The announcer grinned. “A fine reason indeed. And how about you, Maverick?”
Maverick leaned in with a sweet, sheepish smile. “To please my master and make him proud,” he said sincerely.
The crowd went crazy over it. My mounting apprehension began to fall. There was no way I was going to win. He was the perfect submissive, even I could tell that. After this I could do my best not to die jumping off the pedestal, run to grab Arthur and drive us both back to campus. As much of a lightweight as I was, the glass of wine I hadn't even gotten the chance to finish would surely have worn off by then.
“And how about you, Remus? That is how it's pronounced, isn't it? Ree-mus,” he said carefully.
I cough-laughed. “Yeah, that's right. Uh, I don't really want to win. I think Maverick obviously deserves it, so... Er, sorry, Casey. I think you're great, too.”
He glared at me, understandably.
The announcer cocked his head to the side and gave a nervous chuckle. “What a modest answer. Well, whoever wins, the Alpha is certainly going to be one lucky dog.”
I frowned at the announcer for twisting my answer, but he had already moved across the stage to collect a paper from Clara. He shook it dramatically and his eyes widened. “Well, looks like we have a winner! Chosen by the wolf pack themselves, our new Alpha's Pet is... Remus Black!”
I had already started to clap for Maverick when he announced my name. My smile turned into a stiff grimace and my hands hung limp in mid-air. “Wh-what?” I choked out.
The announcer came back over to me, holding a pillow and what seemed to be a coiled leash. It was red leather with what I really hoped was just convincing rhinestones all down one side.