All Creatures

This chapter contains adult language and light bondage between two consenting adult males. If that is not your thing, I suggest skipping this story.

As always, I would like to thank the best editor in the universe. Bert_Fegg, you are awesome!

Also, a big thank you to everyone who is reading, rating, commenting and/or favoriting this story. It makes my day to pop in and see what you think.

Only one more chapter to go after this one, hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 5

Bill sat at the head of the long formal dining table with Stephen on his right hand side. At his suggestion, I sank into the chair to his right, slumping forward in an attempt to make myself small and unobtrusive. Three other men, including Jim and Sean, and two women sat arranged around the remainder of the table.

After everyone settles in their seat, Bill thumps a manila envelope on the wood top and slides it toward the middle of the table.

"That packet includes the current CAD drawing of the internal layout of the facility, surveillance pictures of what we are up against, and all the known information we have on the occupants. For that last, there wasn't much out there. The leader of the rivals appears to be George Williams. I have run into him before, he is a rough man with a chip on his shoulder. Joined the armed forces out of high school, did well as an enlisted man, tried to become a marine, but was dishonorably discharged before completing the program. I'm not sure he lasted a month. There is a little more detail about him and a few of his cronies, but other than that, we are blind. We didn't have enough time to gather more intel."

Bill glances my way with a mildly obscene grin that eases my tension while he gives the others time to rifle through the contents of the collected data.

"Why the fuck do we need to know who is a high school drop out? Let's just go in there and fuck some shit up." Sean grumbles as he glances at the information before him.

Bill patiently answers, in spite of the tone in the younger man voice. "Yes, we could just go in there and 'fuck some shit up'. Your pack is strong, you would triumph and they would leave. You need this information because we want as many of your wolves coming home tomorrow as possible."

After a Bill is satisfied that Sean is paying attention, he continues. "Stephen and I have worked out a plan, but we picked you five to help fill out the teams. You know your pack better than we do. Jenna and Sean, you are with me on the main attack force. We are entering through the loading bay here. Jim, you are with Stephen in a rear attack that will hit after ours. There is a balcony entry that leads into the loft area they are using as sleeping quarters that you will be able to reach with a bit of creative jumping. Libby, you are leading a small clean-up crew. You will remain outside the building and ensure no one tries to sneak around back of us or runs away. John, you will work with Mike to set up a trauma center. You will also be in charge of everyone that can't fight."

At the mention of my name, I bolt upright in my seat.

I'm involved in this? What the hell do I know about werewolf trauma care? We so did not have a werewolf section in school.

My heart rate begins to accelerate and my breathing becomes progressively shallower until Bill places his hand on my shoulder. The cool weight of his hand reassures me and my brain settles into planning mode.

"John, be sure to assign someone to watch the pups, but have everyone else who is available ready to help when we get back. This will not be an easy fight. Mike, make a list of everything you need and have it ready in two hours. Also get together with John and decide how to best use your resources. He is a trained trauma nurse and EMT, I think you will work well together. I have a safe house of sorts in a small storage facility. That is where you will set up and where the young will stay during the fight."

Bill turns his attention back to the werewolves in the room, currently pouring over the layout designs together. "Jenna, Libby, and Jim, you have thirty minutes to pick your teams. Meet Stephen and me in the kitchen when you are ready to start planning. We will meet the rest of the pack at the safe house in two hours"

With that, they left the room, with Sean in tow, to make calls and get the pack organized.

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The safe house is in a storage facility right outside of town. The concrete floors and beige windowless cinderblock walls are cold and leave an empty feeling in my stomach. I can't imagine staying here while Bill could be in danger. I estimate the size of the building to be about the same as two basketball courts. John and I organize medications, bandages, and suturing material into easy to get locations throughout the facility. Mats are placed in rows to one side, chairs are set up on another, and other provisions, food and water and such, are piled on shelves along the back wall. We organize triage areas that are color coded black, red, yellow, and green. Black is for those we can do nothing for, I feel the familiar heavy weight of dread fill the pit of my stomach as I consider the souls who may end up in that section. The red section is positioned on the mats in the middle of the room and is for those who will die in minutes without treatment. Yellow is also on mats near the red section. The green section is for those who can survive for hours without any treatment and is set up in the chairs. John and my attention will primarily be focused on the red group in the beginning while the others under John's direction will be spread out in all the groups offering support and managing cases until John or I can get to them.

We are as prepared as we can be. The teams will be rolling out at one, a little over two hours from now. My eyes scan over the crowded building. Children are playing tag between the set up chairs. Once things get busy, there is an area set aside for them with toys and sleeping mats, but for now, their parents are enjoying watching their innocent play, knowing they might not see them again. The youngest allowed to join the fight are in their late teens and early twenties. They are all grouped together near the provisions, punching each other's shoulders and laughing loudly. Sean is in the middle of this group. There are also a few older wolves, sitting quietly in the kid's area, contemplating the action surrounding them in the facility. Most of these will end up watching the children and helping with the triage after the battle.

My eyes settle on Bill in the middle of a jovial discussion with Stephen. Both seem to be in high spirits. Apparently battles are good for the psyche of my vampire. As his gaze meets mine, he thumps Stephen's back and heads my way. When he reaches me, he slides his arms around my waist, pulling my hips flush with his own and leaned down to lick the lobe of my ear. "I think we have done all we can for now, would you like to accompany me home for an hour or so?"

Bill is slowly grinding his hips into my jeans, so with a soft sigh I respond "And however shall we occupy our time, Mr. Davey?"

"I'll think of something, Dr. Harvey." Bill's grin promises a very wicked two hours.

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As Bill backs up the stairs in his home, his mouth firmly attaches to mine. His hands lightly caress my hips in an effort to guide me safely up into his room. At the top of the steps, he allows his hands to begin roaming over my body, gliding under my T-shirt to caress the smooth, hairless skin of my abdomen. As we reach his bedroom door, the shirt has been discarded two feet back and my belt is being pulled through the loops of my jeans.

When we enter the bedroom, a memory has me stepping back from Bill's embrace. "Um, wait, hold on a sec."

Crap, this man turns my head into mush.

I decide it will be easier to show Bill what I am after rather than try to articulate it at this point. I drop to my knees by the bed and grab the pile of magazines I found the other day. Finding what I am looking for doesn't take long. I have been thinking about that picture often since I first found it. I drop the magazine opened to page forty-nine on the bed, facing Bill. I look at him with a slight flush rising over my exposed chest while I anxiously wait for his reaction.

Bill studies the picture for a split second then glances at me before returning his attention to the picture. A content smile slowly spreads over his face. "You would like to try that?"

"Yes" I whisper.

Oh please, please, let him say it's okay.

"And were you hoping to be the brunette or the cute little blond in this situation of ours?" Bill moves the magazine to the side table and returns his attention to me as he runs his lips along my neck. The simple action has my dick swollen and pushing uncomfortably against the seams of my pants. As I reach to adjust myself, Bill's hands catch mine. "Uh-uh. Answer my question, Mike."

"The blond" my voice sounds ten miles away to me, I am so focused on Bill's touch.

"Turn around and put your hands on the bed." Bill's voice is soft but still commanding.

I comply without thought, feeling the chill of the room air as I listen to Bill's footsteps retreat across the room. I hear the opening of a drawer and the sound of Bill rummaging through its contents in search of something. The air conditioner blows a soft breeze of cool air across my naked back sending a wave of shivers over my body and my cock still aches as it presses at an awkward angle into the denim. Finally, Bill returns behind me and reaches around me to arrange various objects in front of me on the bed. Leaving the objects there, Bill kneels behind me and begins to run his hands along the sides of my ribs, over my lower back and around to caress my stomach before ascending toward my chest to concentrate some attention on my nipples. The light touch causes the hairs on my body to stand on end and I moan softly in appreciation.

During his slow ministrations, I study the objects placed in front of me. There are two pairs of black leather cuffs arranged in a neat row, about three inches wide with several silver D rings worked into the leather. The material has a dull shine and the way it falls gently on the bed, I can tell they will be as soft as a second skin. The cuffs are fastened by two silver buckles attached to two stiffer, one inch thick, pieces of leather wrapped around each cuff. Next to the cuffs, is a thick black butt plug with an oddly shaped smooth protrusion on one end. Armed with the basics of anatomy, any gay man could probably figure out exactly where that protrusion is going to hit. Next to the plug is a smooth metal pill shaped object, about two and a half inches long and a little less than one inch in diameter. The metal is a deep black shiny material that I find very beautiful. Above all this is a thin black riding crop, but where there would normally be a looped strip of leather, there is a soft filamentous material of bright pink, that I would normally associate with stuffed animals, not tools of torture.

While studying the riding crop, I feel Bill's hands catch on the top button of my jeans. It takes me a few seconds to realize I am the one making the long, deep groan that fills the silent bedroom. Bill slowly pulls down my jeans, nipping along the exposed area through my briefs and following each bite with a soothing brush of his lips to ease the slight sting.

Once I am left standing at the end of the bed in only my white briefs, the weight of my upper body still leaning on my hands placed on the mattress of the bed, Bill stands back up, dragging his hands from upper thighs, over my groin, along my belly, and then back to my hips.

"Get in the middle of the bed, face up, legs spread."

Hopping on the bed, I crawl over the toys to settle in the pillows at the head of the bed. I watch Bill grab a bottle of lube from the side table, glance once more at the open magazine, then climb in bed, settling between my spread thighs.

Bill immediately eases my briefs off my hips, slowly pulling them down till my trapped cock springs free and slaps my abdomen. Stripping the briefs off the rest of the way and throwing them to the floor, Bill lets his eyes roam over me, exposed on top of his comforter. He eases my upper body up and removes all the pillows from behind me except for one before allowing me to slip back supine. He places another smaller pillow under my hips then discards the rest on the floor with my briefs.

With two of the cuffs in his hand, Bill began to trace kisses in a trail starting from my thighs and leading to the junction of my shoulder and neck. As Bill reaches my neck, my eyes close involuntarily and I release a large sigh of approval, not realizing that Bill's hands have moved until he has both my arms positioned above my head. He carefully fastens a cuff to each wrist then fastens the cuffs together, wrists crossed with my left wrist behind my right, with a clip through two of the D rings, and finally ties the left cuff to a small ring hidden in the middle of the headboard. With the slack in the rope, I am able to comfortably place my hands on the bed behind me, but I do not have much more range of motion than that. A few experimental tugs tells me the knots aren't going to slip, the cuffs are well secured, and the leather is soft enough that it isn't going to chafe my skin.

I return my attention back to Bill as he licks his was down my shoulder and over my underarm, leaving a thin trail of saliva behind. The breeze from the air conditioning unit quickly cools the trail, leaving my arm tingling.

As Bill places a hand under my knees to pull them up, he looks at me with a serious gaze. Hands stilling, waiting until I give him my full attention. "Will you let me bite you?"

Like before? Fuck yeah! That was awesome!

Just as I am about to give an enthusiastic consent, I remember that this world is not the same as I have thought it was for the previous twenty-six years of my life and I pause to consider the request. I study Bill and note the guarded hope in his eyes.

"Will it change me?"

"No, but our saliva has a mild analgesic and euphoric effect. I would have to purposely envenomate you to change you." I can visibly see his hope growing, his eyes become wider and somehow brighter.

"Okay" My voice isn't even a whisper, but Bill hears. He grins and falls between my legs to smash his lips to mine. His kiss is the type that inspires great authors and painters to produce their works. My breath catches and my hands pull on their restraints in a futile effort to grab onto him to steady my world.

Bill sits back and resumes gently pulling my knees up so they are pointed toward the ceiling with my heels positioned close to my ass. As Bill brings the last two cuffs into view, I realize these cuffs are not the same as the first two. These each have two cuffs joined together by an intricately tooled strip of leather about three inches long. The larger cuff straps high on my thigh while the smaller one straps to my ankle. Thus my mobility is reduced greatly while not actually being tied to anything else. I have a brief moment of panic when I realize that I now am completely unable to defend myself and I am at Bill's mercy. However, as I watch the care Bill takes to secure my second leg, I accept that I trust this man I have only recently met more than I trust anyone else in the world.

"Are you okay? Do you want safe words or anything? Red for stop, yellow for slow?"

I smile at the concern in Bill's voice. "I'm fine."

Bill rubs his hand over my leather covered ankles and slowly kisses, licks, and nips his way up my leg. The combination of mild sting from the nips followed by pleasant tingle from the licks and gentle kisses drives all thought out of my head. I only concentrate on the sensations in my legs. Pain and pleasure. Bill eventually works his way up both legs and begins to give the same treatment to my perineum and around my anal sphincter. As Bill begins to suck and nip at my tight bud, my eyes roll back into my head. The pleasure he is giving me far outshines what anyone has ever been able to achieve with rimming me. The pain and pleasure mix to feel like sunlight, warm and gentle, deep within my groin, slowly spreading throughout my body. Just when I reach the point I want to scream with the pleasure, I feel one of Bills cool hands spreading cold lube on my penis, my balls and down into my ass. The contrast in temperature makes me gasp and brings me back into the present.

I watch as Bill sits back and smears more of the lube onto the butt plug. He looks at me with a lecherous gaze. "Deep breath in and let it out slowly."

The plug didn't look that thick but as I comply with his instructions and he begins to push in, I feel the pressure slowly building without the expected release of entry.

Fuck me, Is he putting the thing in sidewise?

Just as this thought enters my mind, I feel my sphincter give and the plug plunge in a few inches. A growl is ripped from my chest as the familiar burn steals all thoughts. "Oh, gods."

As my breathing begins to return to normal and the sharp burn dulls to a mild ache, I notice Bill staring at my face as he slowly rubs my hips and stomach. One of his hands reaches down and slowly pushes the remainder of the plug in. As the thin section before the base slides to my sphincter, I sigh in relief. The plug is actually very comfortable once it is in, providing a full feeling without the discomfort of a constant stretching on my sphincter muscle. I smile at Bill and take a deep breath in. This causes a chain of muscle movements in my abdomen and pelvis that rotates the plug just slightly toward my stomach and causes the protrusion to massage my prostate. It was gentle enough to be very, very nice but not overwhelming.

"Very good, keep up the nice deep breaths." Bill encourages me as he picks up the riding crop. Placing the soft end up near my right ear, he slowly tickles his way around my neck and over my chest to my left nipple. The sensation is pleasant, causing the hairs on my chest to stand erect once more. After two slow rotations around the hardened nipple, Bill pulls the crop back and snaps the material on the sensitive tissue. The pain is sharp but short lived, causing my body to jerk at the unexpected treatment. This of course, in turn, causes the plug to make a much harder pass over my prostate. The dual sensation of sharp pain followed quickly by intense pleasure is better than I ever imagined. I close my eyes so I can concentrate on the sensation of warmth spreading from my thighs to my nipples. Bill continues his ministrations, moving the crop from nipple to nipple, with the occasional snap of the crop. By the time Bill moves his attention to my genitals, my cock is throbbing and I feel a slick pool of pre-cum forming near my bellybutton. The first snap of the crop on my tightly drawn up testicles draws a cry from my lips. The pain is sharper and longer lasting than the nipples but still unbelievably sweet. When the snap falls on the head of my penis, I am dimly aware that a long line of curses are falling from my lips. I can neither stop them, nor do I really care to spend the energy to consider what I am saying. I babble on while enjoying being lost in the new experience.

After a few closely spaced snaps to my penis, Bill drops the crop and begins to gently massage the tense muscles in my chest and thighs with his strong hands while I come down from the high induced by the crop. As my breathing becomes normal, Bill places a very cold hand over my balls and cock. The temperature difference from his hand to my hot engorged penis causes me to whimper. Then his hand begins to vibrate in the most delicious way. I realize the metal pill shaped toy must be a clit vibrator. Bill slowly rubs his hand up and down my genitals, spending a little time to roll my testicles in his hand around the vibrator, before heading back up to concentrate the sensation on the lower ridge of my crown. After the seemingly hours of play, I feel my orgasm building in record speed. I begin to squirm in my restraints and attempt to push my hips harder into Bill's hand, resulting in Bill slapping my hip with one hand before holding me still. He continues his slow massage for a minute more before I am overwhelmed. I yelped as I feel as if my very essence is being ripped from my body through my shaft. Rope after rope of white cum coats my stomach.