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niceandfluffy2Part B - warning, contains non-con
*
The bear proved to be only half the battle. It hadn’t stood a chance when it came down to it, despite the power behind the paws and the hardened claws, although to be fair on the bear it had given it a damned good go. Victor had received a vicious blow to his thigh with its claws, exposing the muscle and nearly breaking the bone. Victor, of course, decided to return the favour. It was only polite.
Logan had remained out of the battle, simply waiting and watching in the tiny chance his brother might require his help. Every so often Victor gave him a quick glance, calculating on whether he could step back and let Logan enter the fight, but Logan had simply shaken his head in response. Victor accepted the point. It was a one-on-one battle rather than requiring any type of team work, and Logan would merely get in the way. They had been here so many times as children, which had led to a number of arguments whenever Jimmy had bounced into a fight that was too tough for him. Baby brothers needed to hang back and wait. That was how it was in life, and he was happy to see that Jimmy hadn’t forgotten the lessons he had learned under his brother’s guidance.
Finally, satisfied and panting, Victor rejoined his brother. Logan rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t quite hide the smile.
“Happy?”
“Mmm,” Victor gave a nod and was about to run his hand through his hair when he suddenly realised that it was covered in blood and dark hairs. He wiped it on his thigh instead, and stretched.
“I thought we could do some climbing this afternoon. Try those cliffs over there,” Logan gave a little nod of his head. “Unless you fancy hunting bunnies, of course. They always seem to get the better of you, considering how long you normally take to catch the things.”
Victor smiled to himself and decided not to comment on that, choosing to stretch instead. He found one hand captured by Logan as his brother examined his claws thoughtfully.
“Have you ever broken a nail from this?” he enquired curiously.
“Fighting? No, they’re pretty solid. Needs a lot of effort before they snap.” Victor replied, allowing Logan a few moments before retrieving his hand. He grinned and put on a higher pitched voice. “And, of course, the nail varnish does a wonderful job of strengthening them,”
Logan chuckled and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. “You’ve been hanging around Wade too much,”
“Yeah. I know.” Victor shrugged. “The bonuses outweigh the insanity. Am I allowed to get more clothes on before we hike, or are you going to insist I do this in a Tarzan style?”
“Clothes.” Logan agreed. “Since you always insist on going first, I’m going to protect against worrying views,”
Victor chuckled and put his arm around his brother’s shoulder for a moment in a hug that was so damned memorable from their youth. Jimmy had always enjoyed physical contact and it was a habit that Victor had slowly picked up, little bursts of warmth before they returned to their prowling natures. It had slowly trickled away as they got older, unable to fully demonstrate their closeness whilst under society’s scrutiny, and eventually they had simply allowed their loyalty to speak their affection for them. Its return was a damned good sign that perhaps, just perhaps, their future mission wasn’t going to end up a total mess.
Of course Jimmy’s need to touch hadn’t always led to pleasurable things, Victor mused as they continued to wander back to the campsite they had left. In the early days, it had given more pain than it solved. But then no happiness in life was free, and he doubted whether he would have changed it for the world.
On the other hand, there were a few choices he regretted making, but he would never explain those, regardless of how much Logan pestered. Some things you just had to keep private, bonding or no, and that was exactly how he was planning to keep it.
It was bad enough knowing it himself.
He could remember the first time he had looked at his brother in a completely different way. Jimmy was still only a kid although he was desperate not to be, his ruffled black hair constantly falling over his eyes that gave him a shaggy dog look. His light brown eyes were eager to please, normally giving side glances at Victor to learn as much as he could from his elder brother. Jimmy’s confidence still hadn’t improved, but Victor didn’t mind that too much. If his brother was too cocky, he would have tried to go off and do his own thing, and there was no way he was letting him do that. They were a team, they understood each other, and that would stay.
Jimmy was also surprisingly affectionate. He had adored stories, giving him something to focus on other than the dampness of the outside or the pain of cold, and demanded at least four a day. Victor had run out of tales after a week, but Jimmy didn’t mind; the same tale was told over and over again, sometimes with different endings, sometimes with an addition of blood whenever Victor got bored. His brother lapped it up, eyes shining and his usual ‘grown up’ expression completely abandoned as he curled around Victor’s body for warmth and comfort as he listened.
“Why did the pigs leave their first house?” he had wondered as Victor had started to recount the tale of the three little pigs. Victor sighed softly.
“Because they wanted to go out and seek their fortune,”
“Oh. Do pigs need fortunes?”
“Everyone needs fortunes. And stop thinking about it too much, these are talking pigs,” Victor leaned back and felt Jimmy’s body behind his back. If the youngster curled any more, he’d turn into a snake. Jimmy frowned, thinking it all over. Victor gave him a gentle cuff around the head.
“Jimmy,” he said gently. “Just listen to the story, okay?”
“Okay,” Jimmy smiled back at him, and settled down with his chin on his hands. Victor smiled and ruffled his soft, dark hair again.
“You know, you’re a little too old for stories now,” he said softly. “You’re fourteen,”
A guilty look flashed in Jimmy’s eyes, the youngster pushing himself up slightly as he looked at his brother. Victor ruffled his hair again and patted the bear fur they were lying on, trying to encourage him to settle down. The last thing he needed was extra movement against his body, after all. Victor had increasingly felt urges he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with, considering their existence was increasingly solitary. It was him and Jimmy, and that was it. That didn’t give him many options to play with.
They went into towns where Victor gazed at females with a burning longing, but with his teeth and claws he could rarely speak to one without some type of scream or accusation. The commonest was ‘devil child’ if he wasn’t careful, and that had a nasty tendency of getting them chased out. They hadn’t been caught yet, but Victor didn’t want to think of what would happen if they did. They might not be able to kill them, but they would take the normal-looking Jimmy away from him for ‘protection’.
Victor’s hand moved from his brother’s hair to his shoulder, squeezing it gently as a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. Jimmy was his.
“I’m sorry, Victor,” came a timid voice beside him. Victor cursed to himself and smiled back at Jimmy encouragingly, trying to soothe his brother’s fears. Clearly Jimmy had assumed that the anger was aimed at him.
“S’ok. C’mon. So the pigs went out into the world and-,”
“What do men of our age get up to once they’re past stories?” Jimmy piped up. “What do they do for fun?”
Victor smiled ruefully, not planning to tell his innocent brother exactly what he himself got up to for fun. He had often had to go off to hunt ‘rabbits’ alone, maintaining it was good for James to spend some time alone in case they were separated. In truth, the rabbits were ignored until after Victor had spent a good length of time touching himself, growling in helpless pleasure at each rough stroke until he flopped back in an exhausted, sated sleep. For a while, this had been enough. Now, he wasn’t too sure.
His gaze found his brother’s form again. Slim, eager, pretty, Jimmy squirmed next to him most nights and had caused many early morning ‘rabbit hunts’ from his constant need to fidget. He could smell that Jimmy was increasingly becoming a man; he had already had to assure the frightened boy that an erection was not a sign of a lethal disease, or that his penis would snap off if he touched it, but he had managed to avoid the statement on exactly what it was there for. Jimmy had watched animals mating enough times to know where babies came from, but had never quite applied it to his own circumstance. Perhaps it was time to broach that subject.
Victor sighed softly. Or perhaps not. Jimmy was unlikely to have such problems with women when he was older, his soft velvet eyes and slim but muscular body appealing to society, and as long as he kept his claws under control no one would ever realise about his ‘abilities’. He needed to keep Jimmy’s innocence for as long as possible, otherwise sex could easily split them apart. All it would take was some girl that Jimmy would claim he ‘loved’, and he would forget all about Victor.
He gently began to stroke Jimmy’s shoulder as he thought, easing the boy and feeling him relax against him. Women looking for romance and children would only lead to trouble, but there were women who simply went for the act itself, paid women in towns and inns. They would need money, but perhaps that was a way to ensure that Jimmy saw the female form as it was intended – as a vessel, rather than a commitment. And perhaps that was also one way Victor could seek others without them screaming so damned loudly. He found he had been good to seduce with his eyes and voice, but his hands…
Victor sighed softly and continued to stroke his brother. He could feel Jimmy’s contentment, a quiet little purring noise that spoke of his brother’s pleasure and delight. The younger boy had always adored physical comfort, needing hugs and pets as much as the bees needed flowers, and Victor was normally happy if slightly bemused to offer it. He could only assume Jimmy’s ‘parents’ had been softer than his own.
“Well?” Jimmy asked again, watching his eyes curiously. The stroke ended up as a little slap.
“Don’t rush me,”
“Rush you? For an answer? I mean, you must know, right? Because you’re a man,” Jimmy said proudly. “You have extra fur too, like when the bucks get heavier and furrier. That means you’re grown up.”
Victor smiled ruefully. He had bulked out and gained ‘fur’, as Jimmy called it, but he knew that he was nowhere near the age which would allow other men to view him as anything but a nuisance. Claws were good for short term revenge, but he had swiftly learned that to be successful he needed to think things through, to make a plan and implement it.
“We’ll talk it over later,”
“Aww, but why?” Jimmy whined softly, and squirmed again. Victor tried to ignore the way his baby brother brushed against his body, or his physical closeness that seemed to spark more sensations than it should. It was far too hard.
“Because,” he grunted back.
“But that’s not fair!”
“Jimmy, if you don’t shut up now, I’ll tan your hide,” he growled softly. Jimmy retreated into little soft mutters, his eyes sulky.
“Fine,” he nudged against him a little more. Victor closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. Fucking hell. He shifted on the rug, trying to hide his discomfort.
“Just go to sleep,”
“You’re mean,” Jimmy squirmed again, clearly not planning to stay still. Victor took another breath of air which didn’t help in the slightest. That was it. He pushed himself up, leaving Jimmy curled around an empty spot and thankfully blinking up to look at his back.
“Victor?” the voice was hesitant.
“I’m going to head on to town. We need to get your some new boots.” he said, crouching to put on his own.
“Can I come?” Jimmy spoke fearfully. He had never been left behind before. Victor shook his head.
“It’s too dangerous. I need you to stay here and catch us a few more rabbits, okay?” he glanced over his shoulder and met a miserable look coming the other way. Jimmy’s mouth trembled with emotion, although he kept it inside; instead the boy curled tightly on the rug, pretending to go to sleep. Victor grabbed a blanket and put it over Jimmy’s form without getting a look in return, recognising the shaking shoulders for what they were. He hesitated, and then continued to walk out of the little shelter they shared. Jimmy would have to have some time alone at some stage, and god, Victor needed some company before he exploded.
*
Money, money, money. It all came down to money. Victor had managed to steal a few things, but they wouldn’t get him much more than a tickle. He growled softly and stalked to the end of the alleyway to watch the people walk past, trying to spot a target that looked rich but without unnecessary complications.
As it turned out, the unnecessary complications came to him.
“I’ve been watching you,” a soft purr came from behind him. Victor immediately tried to bolt without bothering to look around, but two large shadows suddenly blocked the entrance to the alleyway, and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder to pull him back.
Panting, growling, Victor immediately swiped with his claws and felt the satisfaction of them entering one of the other men’s bodies. There was an agonised yell and the man fell backwards, but the exit wasn’t cleared quickly enough; Victor felt one hand get captured by an incredible strength, then the other swiftly follow suit as soon as he raised it to strike at the man’s throat. Hissing, kicking, struggling, he was slammed against the wall.
“John’s down,” came a quiet voice from the darkness as another shadow crouched at the bleeding, squirming man at their feet. Victor snarled again, trying to twist out of their grasp but unable to break the iron grasp that was surrounding his wrists. A knee slammed between his legs, stopping him dead and causing the snarl to end up a little whimper of pain.
“So you can be harmed. Good,” came the original voice in clear satisfaction. “What’s your name, boy? And where’s the other one?”
Victor raised his head and shot him a look that managed to illustrate half a million curses in a simple second. There was a soft chuckle, then a snap of fingers.
“Search around the area. Find the kid. Bring him back here,”
“He’s not here. It’s just me.” Victor snarled, his voice ragged from pain. He tried to struggle free, but the hands holding him were like iron. There was a soft thoughtful noise.
“Just you? Now, I find that very hard to believe,”
“Then you haven’t been watching me very closely, have you?” Victor spat. “I left him behind.”
There was a weary sigh, and then Victor found his jaw captured by a slim, gloved hand. Bright blue eyes studied him carefully, turning his head this way and that as though examining him as a purchase.
“How old are you, boy?”
Victor tried to move his head away but the hand simply stayed with him. He glared at the man and remained silent. Another weary sigh sounded.
“This one’s not a complicated question. I would suggest you leave your tiresome behaviour to the more awkward ones, hmm?” the fingers squeezed on Victor’s jaw. “How old?”
“Sixteen,”
“And your little friend…?”
There was a noticeable silence before the fingers squeezed again. Victor scowled. “Fourteen,”
“Hmmm.” The gloved hand dropped him distastefully, the figure stepping back. “Bring him. Is John still alive?”
“No.”
“Well, well. Perhaps your reputation is well deserved, little devil child. A little unfortunate for you, either way,” The figure turned to head down the alleyway. Victor snarled as he was manhandled along by the mountain that had seized him, trying to get his kicks to find substance. Panting, snarling, one step away from full rage, Victor found himself thrust into a broken down building, and dragged unceremoniously towards a poorly repaired door. He looked up in time to register the smell of damp before he was dragged down the steps, his body landing heavily after each one. Victor twisted and kicked out again, this time at his captor’s face, but missed by an inch; his captor waited for a second and then dropped his hold on one wrist to calmly punch Victor in the face.
He heard and felt a crunch, and then blessed nothing. That was, of course, for all of a minute, although as minutes went it was pretty peaceful. The floor was the first thing he really noticed, damp and hard. The thing around his neck was next. Victor opened his eyes in shock, lifting one hand to test the metal collar that had been placed around him before following the chain to where it led into the wall. Shackles were hanging either side of it, although he was thankful to see that for the moment at least his hands were his own.
“The kid’s awake,” there was a hint of disbelief in the words, the voice echoing in the room. Victor crouched and snarled, his claws extended and his teeth on display as he tested exactly how much room he had to play with. Not enough, was the simple answer. Not nearly enough.
A slim, weasel like man approached him slowly, crouching down out of reach of his claws as he assessed him.
“And there’s not a scratch on him. His nose was broken, but now it’s not,” the weasel man turned bewildered eyes behind him at the little group of men. Victor hissed again and moved back, giving a tug at the chain. Nothing.
“He killed John,” came a mutter. “What happens if he is a demon child?”
“Laval won’t listen to that,” another responded. “He says he’s just a normal kid.”
“A normal child? What sort of child has those teeth and those claws? What sort of man can go through that damage and not have a mark on him within five minutes?” the mutterer continued. “Perhaps the rumours were true,”
“And what?” there was a snort from a heavily built man who was leaning against the wall, his voice thick with an undetermined accent. “He’ll come back for revenge? Look at him. He’s scrawny, and he looks like a cat just before you drown it. Ain’t nothing he’ll do.”
“Fine. I’m not touching him. You do it,” the mutterer maintained, folding his arms across his chest and fixing the mountain with a firm glare. He looked at the weasel man, who had just walked over to rejoin his team. “You with me, Mouse?”
Mouse nodded, rubbing his long nose with the back of his arm as he did so. “Yeah. That kid’s unnatural. I’m not touching him either.”
The mountain snorted. “Pathetic.”
“Laval’s wrong-,”
“Laval,” came a rich, soft voice from the doorway. “is never wrong.”
Victor raised his head as the owner stepped further into the room, allowing the light from the torches to fall on his face. A slim man, dressed in rich clothing and in possession of the neatest beard that Victor had ever seen. High cheekbones gave the man a slightly vulpine expression, aided by the swift, cunning eyes that seemed to notice everything.
The mutterer blanched, and took a little step back. “Laval, you know I don’t think-,”
“Yes, I know you don’t think.” Laval interrupted softly, the fox eyes resting on the other man for a moment before dismissing him entirely to focus on Victor. He prowled forward and dropped to a graceful crouch, watching him thoughtfully. “Already causing problems, aren’t you? I thought you might. You have troublemaker’s eyes. I should know. I possess them myself. And what is your name, child?”
Victor scowled at him, but couldn’t find a reason not to obey. “Victor.”
“Victor.” Laval repeated in some satisfaction, looking back at the other men. “Clearly a demonic name, hmmm?”
He rolled his eyes and turned back to study Victor a little more. “You’ll have to forgive them. They are a superstitious bunch, much like the rest of this town. To me, you seem like a youth with the unfortunate situation of having unmanageable nails and somewhat pointy teeth. Your ability to heal swiftly is a little of a shock, granted, but there are many special people in this world,”
Victor growled again uncertainly, trying to find a way to escape. Laval watched him for a moment, then smiled pleasantly again.
“Let me explain my issue with you. Some people would have you hung from a noose or burned to death for being a demon. I am not one of them. However, you should be aware that this town is mine,” here the fox eyes grew intense, a little spark of gold in the centre of them that immediately sparked Victor’s attention. “and I do not appreciate some child wandering in here and being the person that everyone fears. That position is mine, and I am not willing to relinquish it. Clear?”
Victor watched him carefully, scenting the possibility of escape. “I could leave. Never return,” he breathed. Laval sighed regretfully and shook his head.
“Ah, if only you could. However, you appear to have caught the interest of the town, and if you vanished then they would simply imagine where you were. In the dark alleyways, for example. Hiding behind doors. Lurking in the woodlands. When even my own people start questioning my orders, I believe we can agree we have a problem,” the fox-man smiled at him. “Now, the other option would be to have you work for me instead, use your little devil ability for my opportunities.”
Victor looked at him warily. “I could do that,”
“Would you?” Laval shook his head sadly. “I look in your eyes and I think not. You might behave yourself for a few weeks, but if I had to guess I’d say you had problems with authority. This makes getting you to obey orders a little tricky, hmm? So unfortunately I only have one real option. I will have to demonstrate to the town that there’s nothing to fear from their little devil child… as I will have to do for my own little rebellious folk. My apologies.”
He moved gracefully to his feet and snapped his fingers again. The mountain stirred, crossing to where Laval stood with a slightly lumbering walk. Victor snarled again, his claws beginning to scratch dents into the floor in his agitation. His heart beat was already racing, his mind desperate to find an escape route.
“Let me go,” Victor snarled, a little anxiously. He stepped back as the mountain closed the gap, but the chain was too short and there was nowhere left to go. His claws sliced through the air at the threat, but the first missed and the next swipe simply allowed his wrist to become captured by the mountain. Victor immediately struggled, but he felt himself be pulled into an ‘embrace’ with such strength that his arm was nearly pulled from its socket. He waited for a moment, and then buried his teeth into the meat of the mountain’s arm. A heavy blow to the head was the only reward he received for that, and the blood – god, the blood – tasted so bad that he nearly spat it out.
He was lifted bodily, hanging from his wrists and twisting like a snake as he desperately tried to find something sensitive to bite. Laval watched him in disinterest for a moment, before giving a nod to the mountain. Victor suddenly found himself wrapped in the man’s lap with both wrists pinned and his head slammed back against the broad chest of the other man.
“Edward,” Laval’s eyes turned to another man. “Extract those teeth. Let’s have some proof of who we’re dealing with. I want his claws after that.”
Victor tried not to react but he knew his eyes showed their alarm. They had always assumed things like this would grow back, but they’d never tried it, and these were his teeth. He struggled again but he was caught with such strength that he had more chance escaping quick sand, his growing desperation no match for the stronger adult.
“Hold his head,” the man called Edward grunted as he approached with a pair of rusted pliers. “You might be able to survive his bite, but I won’t.”
Victor felt his head tip back and put on another burst of activity which was foiled once again. He almost went cross-eyed as the pliers came closer, his mouth forced open as he desperately tried to stop them.
His anguished howl could be heard from the moon as the pliers did their duty. One of the teeth had broken off, refusing to leave the bone of Victor’s jaws, but the other had gone and both were pouring with hot blood that filled his mouth and dribbled down to his chin. He desperately tried to grab his hands away but the mountain was always there, holding him so hard that Victor nearly dislocated his own shoulder trying to force it.
It took ten minutes to remove all the claws. By the end, Victor was bloodied and gasping for breath, having run out of strength after the first minute from howling. Pain raced up his arms but his body refused to black out, extending his agony. Finally he was released, slumping onto the floor as he scrabbled for any sort of relief.
“Good,” Laval approached again and crouched by the bleeding, trembling youth. “We’re almost done. You want to be released, yes? To go back to your little friend?”
Victor slowly put his hand underneath him and started to push himself up, but a foot on his back stopped him. Panting, he raised his eyes and numbly nodded. Laval smiled.
“Excellent. Get on your hands and knees and open your mouth,” he purred. Victor greeted that response with a blank look. His teeth were already gone. There was nothing left to take.
The mountain rumbled a laugh.
“I don’t think he knows what you’re talking about,”
Laval nodded thoughtfully, and raised his hand to touch Victor under his chin. Victor refused to flinch, meeting the other man’s gaze with a vicious one of his own.
“You’ll open your mouth and suck on my dick,” he said, in a soft ‘all friends here’ tone. “And whilst you’re doing that, one of my friends will be fucking you. Do you understand, my little virgin?”
Victor stared at him a moment longer in utter disbelief, before snarling and trying to back away.
“Because if you don’t,” Laval continued regretfully. “Then I will simply disembowel you and leave you to die as a warning. Which would you prefer?”
Victor stayed there for a few moments, his head bowed. The blood flow had already stopped, but he could feel that re-growth was going to take much longer than simply healing the gashes. His weapons were gone. He had never felt so naked in his life. Victor raised his head and wearily looked at the other man.
“Can I assume that silence is not an assent to disembowelling?” Laval purred softly. “Get on with it.”
The collar dug into his neck as Victor shifted, then stayed perfectly still as he tried to think it over. His body was still trembling through shock, which was something that he couldn’t entirely control. He would probably survive the disembowelling on him, but god, the pain. And after all, how bad could male sex really be?
He tried to stop listening to his mind that was raging against the indignity. Victor growled, a soft, vicious sound in the back of his throat, and slowly shifted forward on hands and knees. The erect penis was in his mouth before he had time to think it over, large and slightly salty; the tip tried to force its way back and Victor gagged before he could stop himself.
“Hmm. You are inexperienced.” Laval pondered it over, and then withdrew. “I’ll wait until you’re penetrated. I’m not having you bite me out of shock,”
Victor said nothing, simply panting softly and staring blankly at the floor. He didn’t move as he felt a sudden burst of pain blossom across his right buttock and down into his thigh as his trousers were sliced open with a knife, then felt his legs kicked apart. He bit his bottom lip hard, willing himself not to make a sound.
He failed.
His teeth clamped down even harder on his lip, cutting off the shocked noise that had emerged, traitorously, from his throat as he felt a hard, hot length force its way into him. His lower body was on fire, a strange, rolling, endless agony that seemed to burn even brighter whenever he moved. His body had automatically clamped down on the intruder and this merely made things worse, grating with each movement until everything screamed at him.
There was a low chuckle from behind him.
“Definitely not a demon,” the mountain said in amusement, shifting his hips and sending another burst of misery throughout Victor’s body. “I’m sure they don’t make that sound,”
“I told you,” Laval shrugged. “An idiotic child, that’s all he is.”
There was a little rattle as he shook a small pot which no doubt contained the stolen teeth and claws.
“And now I have evidence that even demon children cower from me,” the satisfaction in his voice was tremendous. Victor’s remaining teeth bit even harder into his lip, anger and shame bubbling through him as he tried to focus on something, anything else. His claw-less fingers scrabbled on the floor briefly before he forced himself to stay still as the other man moved inside him.
He hadn’t escaped even when the thrusts began to move a little easier; Victor looked up slowly as Laval stepped closer, an eyebrow raised at him. Victor growled softly, anger slowly beginning to take over from the shame, but without weapons he was powerless. If he fought, they were even less likely to release him.
“I do believe our little pup wants to gut me,” Laval said in amusement. “Isn’t that sweet? Open up, child.”
This request was emphasised by a harder thrust deep within him. Victor winced, and reluctantly opened his mouth. The salty taste hadn’t gotten any better, although he was careful not to gag even as his body was rocked by the powerful thrusts from behind him.
Don’t bite, don’t bite, don’t bite-
It turned out he didn’t have to do much. Within a few moments, the fox-man had already started to thrust in his mouth and Victor found he could simply stay still and simply take the punishment that was being inflicted on his body. Eventually he felt the shuddered release deep within him, followed swiftly by a flood of salty liquid over his tongue. Victor choked, swallowed and gasped, bowing his head as he struggled to recover.
He had two minutes. After that point, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, released from the collar, and all but dragged back up the stairs. Victor’s feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor as he was pulled backwards, Laval following him with a completely careless expression on his face.
“Remember.” Laval said softly and dangerously, gripping hold of Victor’s jaw to stop the youth from looking away. “You go and you don’t come back. If you do, you and your pretty little friend will have a little accident. Clear?”
Victor scowled at him, then had to save himself from falling flat on his face as the hand around his collar dropped him like trash. He rolled over and got to his hands and knees, pushing himself back up and slowly, shakily, walking away with a suspicious look over his shoulder.
He didn’t see them again until five years later, when he came back and slaughtered everyone.
Absence always did make the heart grow fonder.
The bear proved to be only half the battle. It hadn’t stood a chance when it came down to it, despite the power behind the paws and the hardened claws, although to be fair on the bear it had given it a damned good go. Victor had received a vicious blow to his thigh with its claws, exposing the muscle and nearly breaking the bone. Victor, of course, decided to return the favour. It was only polite.
Logan had remained out of the battle, simply waiting and watching in the tiny chance his brother might require his help. Every so often Victor gave him a quick glance, calculating on whether he could step back and let Logan enter the fight, but Logan had simply shaken his head in response. Victor accepted the point. It was a one-on-one battle rather than requiring any type of team work, and Logan would merely get in the way. They had been here so many times as children, which had led to a number of arguments whenever Jimmy had bounced into a fight that was too tough for him. Baby brothers needed to hang back and wait. That was how it was in life, and he was happy to see that Jimmy hadn’t forgotten the lessons he had learned under his brother’s guidance.
Finally, satisfied and panting, Victor rejoined his brother. Logan rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t quite hide the smile.
“Happy?”
“Mmm,” Victor gave a nod and was about to run his hand through his hair when he suddenly realised that it was covered in blood and dark hairs. He wiped it on his thigh instead, and stretched.
“I thought we could do some climbing this afternoon. Try those cliffs over there,” Logan gave a little nod of his head. “Unless you fancy hunting bunnies, of course. They always seem to get the better of you, considering how long you normally take to catch the things.”
Victor smiled to himself and decided not to comment on that, choosing to stretch instead. He found one hand captured by Logan as his brother examined his claws thoughtfully.
“Have you ever broken a nail from this?” he enquired curiously.
“Fighting? No, they’re pretty solid. Needs a lot of effort before they snap.” Victor replied, allowing Logan a few moments before retrieving his hand. He grinned and put on a higher pitched voice. “And, of course, the nail varnish does a wonderful job of strengthening them,”
Logan chuckled and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. “You’ve been hanging around Wade too much,”
“Yeah. I know.” Victor shrugged. “The bonuses outweigh the insanity. Am I allowed to get more clothes on before we hike, or are you going to insist I do this in a Tarzan style?”
“Clothes.” Logan agreed. “Since you always insist on going first, I’m going to protect against worrying views,”
Victor chuckled and put his arm around his brother’s shoulder for a moment in a hug that was so damned memorable from their youth. Jimmy had always enjoyed physical contact and it was a habit that Victor had slowly picked up, little bursts of warmth before they returned to their prowling natures. It had slowly trickled away as they got older, unable to fully demonstrate their closeness whilst under society’s scrutiny, and eventually they had simply allowed their loyalty to speak their affection for them. Its return was a damned good sign that perhaps, just perhaps, their future mission wasn’t going to end up a total mess.
Of course Jimmy’s need to touch hadn’t always led to pleasurable things, Victor mused as they continued to wander back to the campsite they had left. In the early days, it had given more pain than it solved. But then no happiness in life was free, and he doubted whether he would have changed it for the world.
On the other hand, there were a few choices he regretted making, but he would never explain those, regardless of how much Logan pestered. Some things you just had to keep private, bonding or no, and that was exactly how he was planning to keep it.
It was bad enough knowing it himself.
He could remember the first time he had looked at his brother in a completely different way. Jimmy was still only a kid although he was desperate not to be, his ruffled black hair constantly falling over his eyes that gave him a shaggy dog look. His light brown eyes were eager to please, normally giving side glances at Victor to learn as much as he could from his elder brother. Jimmy’s confidence still hadn’t improved, but Victor didn’t mind that too much. If his brother was too cocky, he would have tried to go off and do his own thing, and there was no way he was letting him do that. They were a team, they understood each other, and that would stay.
Jimmy was also surprisingly affectionate. He had adored stories, giving him something to focus on other than the dampness of the outside or the pain of cold, and demanded at least four a day. Victor had run out of tales after a week, but Jimmy didn’t mind; the same tale was told over and over again, sometimes with different endings, sometimes with an addition of blood whenever Victor got bored. His brother lapped it up, eyes shining and his usual ‘grown up’ expression completely abandoned as he curled around Victor’s body for warmth and comfort as he listened.
“Why did the pigs leave their first house?” he had wondered as Victor had started to recount the tale of the three little pigs. Victor sighed softly.
“Because they wanted to go out and seek their fortune,”
“Oh. Do pigs need fortunes?”
“Everyone needs fortunes. And stop thinking about it too much, these are talking pigs,” Victor leaned back and felt Jimmy’s body behind his back. If the youngster curled any more, he’d turn into a snake. Jimmy frowned, thinking it all over. Victor gave him a gentle cuff around the head.
“Jimmy,” he said gently. “Just listen to the story, okay?”
“Okay,” Jimmy smiled back at him, and settled down with his chin on his hands. Victor smiled and ruffled his soft, dark hair again.
“You know, you’re a little too old for stories now,” he said softly. “You’re fourteen,”
A guilty look flashed in Jimmy’s eyes, the youngster pushing himself up slightly as he looked at his brother. Victor ruffled his hair again and patted the bear fur they were lying on, trying to encourage him to settle down. The last thing he needed was extra movement against his body, after all. Victor had increasingly felt urges he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with, considering their existence was increasingly solitary. It was him and Jimmy, and that was it. That didn’t give him many options to play with.
They went into towns where Victor gazed at females with a burning longing, but with his teeth and claws he could rarely speak to one without some type of scream or accusation. The commonest was ‘devil child’ if he wasn’t careful, and that had a nasty tendency of getting them chased out. They hadn’t been caught yet, but Victor didn’t want to think of what would happen if they did. They might not be able to kill them, but they would take the normal-looking Jimmy away from him for ‘protection’.
Victor’s hand moved from his brother’s hair to his shoulder, squeezing it gently as a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. Jimmy was his.
“I’m sorry, Victor,” came a timid voice beside him. Victor cursed to himself and smiled back at Jimmy encouragingly, trying to soothe his brother’s fears. Clearly Jimmy had assumed that the anger was aimed at him.
“S’ok. C’mon. So the pigs went out into the world and-,”
“What do men of our age get up to once they’re past stories?” Jimmy piped up. “What do they do for fun?”
Victor smiled ruefully, not planning to tell his innocent brother exactly what he himself got up to for fun. He had often had to go off to hunt ‘rabbits’ alone, maintaining it was good for James to spend some time alone in case they were separated. In truth, the rabbits were ignored until after Victor had spent a good length of time touching himself, growling in helpless pleasure at each rough stroke until he flopped back in an exhausted, sated sleep. For a while, this had been enough. Now, he wasn’t too sure.
His gaze found his brother’s form again. Slim, eager, pretty, Jimmy squirmed next to him most nights and had caused many early morning ‘rabbit hunts’ from his constant need to fidget. He could smell that Jimmy was increasingly becoming a man; he had already had to assure the frightened boy that an erection was not a sign of a lethal disease, or that his penis would snap off if he touched it, but he had managed to avoid the statement on exactly what it was there for. Jimmy had watched animals mating enough times to know where babies came from, but had never quite applied it to his own circumstance. Perhaps it was time to broach that subject.
Victor sighed softly. Or perhaps not. Jimmy was unlikely to have such problems with women when he was older, his soft velvet eyes and slim but muscular body appealing to society, and as long as he kept his claws under control no one would ever realise about his ‘abilities’. He needed to keep Jimmy’s innocence for as long as possible, otherwise sex could easily split them apart. All it would take was some girl that Jimmy would claim he ‘loved’, and he would forget all about Victor.
He gently began to stroke Jimmy’s shoulder as he thought, easing the boy and feeling him relax against him. Women looking for romance and children would only lead to trouble, but there were women who simply went for the act itself, paid women in towns and inns. They would need money, but perhaps that was a way to ensure that Jimmy saw the female form as it was intended – as a vessel, rather than a commitment. And perhaps that was also one way Victor could seek others without them screaming so damned loudly. He found he had been good to seduce with his eyes and voice, but his hands…
Victor sighed softly and continued to stroke his brother. He could feel Jimmy’s contentment, a quiet little purring noise that spoke of his brother’s pleasure and delight. The younger boy had always adored physical comfort, needing hugs and pets as much as the bees needed flowers, and Victor was normally happy if slightly bemused to offer it. He could only assume Jimmy’s ‘parents’ had been softer than his own.
“Well?” Jimmy asked again, watching his eyes curiously. The stroke ended up as a little slap.
“Don’t rush me,”
“Rush you? For an answer? I mean, you must know, right? Because you’re a man,” Jimmy said proudly. “You have extra fur too, like when the bucks get heavier and furrier. That means you’re grown up.”
Victor smiled ruefully. He had bulked out and gained ‘fur’, as Jimmy called it, but he knew that he was nowhere near the age which would allow other men to view him as anything but a nuisance. Claws were good for short term revenge, but he had swiftly learned that to be successful he needed to think things through, to make a plan and implement it.
“We’ll talk it over later,”
“Aww, but why?” Jimmy whined softly, and squirmed again. Victor tried to ignore the way his baby brother brushed against his body, or his physical closeness that seemed to spark more sensations than it should. It was far too hard.
“Because,” he grunted back.
“But that’s not fair!”
“Jimmy, if you don’t shut up now, I’ll tan your hide,” he growled softly. Jimmy retreated into little soft mutters, his eyes sulky.
“Fine,” he nudged against him a little more. Victor closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. Fucking hell. He shifted on the rug, trying to hide his discomfort.
“Just go to sleep,”
“You’re mean,” Jimmy squirmed again, clearly not planning to stay still. Victor took another breath of air which didn’t help in the slightest. That was it. He pushed himself up, leaving Jimmy curled around an empty spot and thankfully blinking up to look at his back.
“Victor?” the voice was hesitant.
“I’m going to head on to town. We need to get your some new boots.” he said, crouching to put on his own.
“Can I come?” Jimmy spoke fearfully. He had never been left behind before. Victor shook his head.
“It’s too dangerous. I need you to stay here and catch us a few more rabbits, okay?” he glanced over his shoulder and met a miserable look coming the other way. Jimmy’s mouth trembled with emotion, although he kept it inside; instead the boy curled tightly on the rug, pretending to go to sleep. Victor grabbed a blanket and put it over Jimmy’s form without getting a look in return, recognising the shaking shoulders for what they were. He hesitated, and then continued to walk out of the little shelter they shared. Jimmy would have to have some time alone at some stage, and god, Victor needed some company before he exploded.
*
Money, money, money. It all came down to money. Victor had managed to steal a few things, but they wouldn’t get him much more than a tickle. He growled softly and stalked to the end of the alleyway to watch the people walk past, trying to spot a target that looked rich but without unnecessary complications.
As it turned out, the unnecessary complications came to him.
“I’ve been watching you,” a soft purr came from behind him. Victor immediately tried to bolt without bothering to look around, but two large shadows suddenly blocked the entrance to the alleyway, and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder to pull him back.
Panting, growling, Victor immediately swiped with his claws and felt the satisfaction of them entering one of the other men’s bodies. There was an agonised yell and the man fell backwards, but the exit wasn’t cleared quickly enough; Victor felt one hand get captured by an incredible strength, then the other swiftly follow suit as soon as he raised it to strike at the man’s throat. Hissing, kicking, struggling, he was slammed against the wall.
“John’s down,” came a quiet voice from the darkness as another shadow crouched at the bleeding, squirming man at their feet. Victor snarled again, trying to twist out of their grasp but unable to break the iron grasp that was surrounding his wrists. A knee slammed between his legs, stopping him dead and causing the snarl to end up a little whimper of pain.
“So you can be harmed. Good,” came the original voice in clear satisfaction. “What’s your name, boy? And where’s the other one?”
Victor raised his head and shot him a look that managed to illustrate half a million curses in a simple second. There was a soft chuckle, then a snap of fingers.
“Search around the area. Find the kid. Bring him back here,”
“He’s not here. It’s just me.” Victor snarled, his voice ragged from pain. He tried to struggle free, but the hands holding him were like iron. There was a soft thoughtful noise.
“Just you? Now, I find that very hard to believe,”
“Then you haven’t been watching me very closely, have you?” Victor spat. “I left him behind.”
There was a weary sigh, and then Victor found his jaw captured by a slim, gloved hand. Bright blue eyes studied him carefully, turning his head this way and that as though examining him as a purchase.
“How old are you, boy?”
Victor tried to move his head away but the hand simply stayed with him. He glared at the man and remained silent. Another weary sigh sounded.
“This one’s not a complicated question. I would suggest you leave your tiresome behaviour to the more awkward ones, hmm?” the fingers squeezed on Victor’s jaw. “How old?”
“Sixteen,”
“And your little friend…?”
There was a noticeable silence before the fingers squeezed again. Victor scowled. “Fourteen,”
“Hmmm.” The gloved hand dropped him distastefully, the figure stepping back. “Bring him. Is John still alive?”
“No.”
“Well, well. Perhaps your reputation is well deserved, little devil child. A little unfortunate for you, either way,” The figure turned to head down the alleyway. Victor snarled as he was manhandled along by the mountain that had seized him, trying to get his kicks to find substance. Panting, snarling, one step away from full rage, Victor found himself thrust into a broken down building, and dragged unceremoniously towards a poorly repaired door. He looked up in time to register the smell of damp before he was dragged down the steps, his body landing heavily after each one. Victor twisted and kicked out again, this time at his captor’s face, but missed by an inch; his captor waited for a second and then dropped his hold on one wrist to calmly punch Victor in the face.
He heard and felt a crunch, and then blessed nothing. That was, of course, for all of a minute, although as minutes went it was pretty peaceful. The floor was the first thing he really noticed, damp and hard. The thing around his neck was next. Victor opened his eyes in shock, lifting one hand to test the metal collar that had been placed around him before following the chain to where it led into the wall. Shackles were hanging either side of it, although he was thankful to see that for the moment at least his hands were his own.
“The kid’s awake,” there was a hint of disbelief in the words, the voice echoing in the room. Victor crouched and snarled, his claws extended and his teeth on display as he tested exactly how much room he had to play with. Not enough, was the simple answer. Not nearly enough.
A slim, weasel like man approached him slowly, crouching down out of reach of his claws as he assessed him.
“And there’s not a scratch on him. His nose was broken, but now it’s not,” the weasel man turned bewildered eyes behind him at the little group of men. Victor hissed again and moved back, giving a tug at the chain. Nothing.
“He killed John,” came a mutter. “What happens if he is a demon child?”
“Laval won’t listen to that,” another responded. “He says he’s just a normal kid.”
“A normal child? What sort of child has those teeth and those claws? What sort of man can go through that damage and not have a mark on him within five minutes?” the mutterer continued. “Perhaps the rumours were true,”
“And what?” there was a snort from a heavily built man who was leaning against the wall, his voice thick with an undetermined accent. “He’ll come back for revenge? Look at him. He’s scrawny, and he looks like a cat just before you drown it. Ain’t nothing he’ll do.”
“Fine. I’m not touching him. You do it,” the mutterer maintained, folding his arms across his chest and fixing the mountain with a firm glare. He looked at the weasel man, who had just walked over to rejoin his team. “You with me, Mouse?”
Mouse nodded, rubbing his long nose with the back of his arm as he did so. “Yeah. That kid’s unnatural. I’m not touching him either.”
The mountain snorted. “Pathetic.”
“Laval’s wrong-,”
“Laval,” came a rich, soft voice from the doorway. “is never wrong.”
Victor raised his head as the owner stepped further into the room, allowing the light from the torches to fall on his face. A slim man, dressed in rich clothing and in possession of the neatest beard that Victor had ever seen. High cheekbones gave the man a slightly vulpine expression, aided by the swift, cunning eyes that seemed to notice everything.
The mutterer blanched, and took a little step back. “Laval, you know I don’t think-,”
“Yes, I know you don’t think.” Laval interrupted softly, the fox eyes resting on the other man for a moment before dismissing him entirely to focus on Victor. He prowled forward and dropped to a graceful crouch, watching him thoughtfully. “Already causing problems, aren’t you? I thought you might. You have troublemaker’s eyes. I should know. I possess them myself. And what is your name, child?”
Victor scowled at him, but couldn’t find a reason not to obey. “Victor.”
“Victor.” Laval repeated in some satisfaction, looking back at the other men. “Clearly a demonic name, hmmm?”
He rolled his eyes and turned back to study Victor a little more. “You’ll have to forgive them. They are a superstitious bunch, much like the rest of this town. To me, you seem like a youth with the unfortunate situation of having unmanageable nails and somewhat pointy teeth. Your ability to heal swiftly is a little of a shock, granted, but there are many special people in this world,”
Victor growled again uncertainly, trying to find a way to escape. Laval watched him for a moment, then smiled pleasantly again.
“Let me explain my issue with you. Some people would have you hung from a noose or burned to death for being a demon. I am not one of them. However, you should be aware that this town is mine,” here the fox eyes grew intense, a little spark of gold in the centre of them that immediately sparked Victor’s attention. “and I do not appreciate some child wandering in here and being the person that everyone fears. That position is mine, and I am not willing to relinquish it. Clear?”
Victor watched him carefully, scenting the possibility of escape. “I could leave. Never return,” he breathed. Laval sighed regretfully and shook his head.
“Ah, if only you could. However, you appear to have caught the interest of the town, and if you vanished then they would simply imagine where you were. In the dark alleyways, for example. Hiding behind doors. Lurking in the woodlands. When even my own people start questioning my orders, I believe we can agree we have a problem,” the fox-man smiled at him. “Now, the other option would be to have you work for me instead, use your little devil ability for my opportunities.”
Victor looked at him warily. “I could do that,”
“Would you?” Laval shook his head sadly. “I look in your eyes and I think not. You might behave yourself for a few weeks, but if I had to guess I’d say you had problems with authority. This makes getting you to obey orders a little tricky, hmm? So unfortunately I only have one real option. I will have to demonstrate to the town that there’s nothing to fear from their little devil child… as I will have to do for my own little rebellious folk. My apologies.”
He moved gracefully to his feet and snapped his fingers again. The mountain stirred, crossing to where Laval stood with a slightly lumbering walk. Victor snarled again, his claws beginning to scratch dents into the floor in his agitation. His heart beat was already racing, his mind desperate to find an escape route.
“Let me go,” Victor snarled, a little anxiously. He stepped back as the mountain closed the gap, but the chain was too short and there was nowhere left to go. His claws sliced through the air at the threat, but the first missed and the next swipe simply allowed his wrist to become captured by the mountain. Victor immediately struggled, but he felt himself be pulled into an ‘embrace’ with such strength that his arm was nearly pulled from its socket. He waited for a moment, and then buried his teeth into the meat of the mountain’s arm. A heavy blow to the head was the only reward he received for that, and the blood – god, the blood – tasted so bad that he nearly spat it out.
He was lifted bodily, hanging from his wrists and twisting like a snake as he desperately tried to find something sensitive to bite. Laval watched him in disinterest for a moment, before giving a nod to the mountain. Victor suddenly found himself wrapped in the man’s lap with both wrists pinned and his head slammed back against the broad chest of the other man.
“Edward,” Laval’s eyes turned to another man. “Extract those teeth. Let’s have some proof of who we’re dealing with. I want his claws after that.”
Victor tried not to react but he knew his eyes showed their alarm. They had always assumed things like this would grow back, but they’d never tried it, and these were his teeth. He struggled again but he was caught with such strength that he had more chance escaping quick sand, his growing desperation no match for the stronger adult.
“Hold his head,” the man called Edward grunted as he approached with a pair of rusted pliers. “You might be able to survive his bite, but I won’t.”
Victor felt his head tip back and put on another burst of activity which was foiled once again. He almost went cross-eyed as the pliers came closer, his mouth forced open as he desperately tried to stop them.
His anguished howl could be heard from the moon as the pliers did their duty. One of the teeth had broken off, refusing to leave the bone of Victor’s jaws, but the other had gone and both were pouring with hot blood that filled his mouth and dribbled down to his chin. He desperately tried to grab his hands away but the mountain was always there, holding him so hard that Victor nearly dislocated his own shoulder trying to force it.
It took ten minutes to remove all the claws. By the end, Victor was bloodied and gasping for breath, having run out of strength after the first minute from howling. Pain raced up his arms but his body refused to black out, extending his agony. Finally he was released, slumping onto the floor as he scrabbled for any sort of relief.
“Good,” Laval approached again and crouched by the bleeding, trembling youth. “We’re almost done. You want to be released, yes? To go back to your little friend?”
Victor slowly put his hand underneath him and started to push himself up, but a foot on his back stopped him. Panting, he raised his eyes and numbly nodded. Laval smiled.
“Excellent. Get on your hands and knees and open your mouth,” he purred. Victor greeted that response with a blank look. His teeth were already gone. There was nothing left to take.
The mountain rumbled a laugh.
“I don’t think he knows what you’re talking about,”
Laval nodded thoughtfully, and raised his hand to touch Victor under his chin. Victor refused to flinch, meeting the other man’s gaze with a vicious one of his own.
“You’ll open your mouth and suck on my dick,” he said, in a soft ‘all friends here’ tone. “And whilst you’re doing that, one of my friends will be fucking you. Do you understand, my little virgin?”
Victor stared at him a moment longer in utter disbelief, before snarling and trying to back away.
“Because if you don’t,” Laval continued regretfully. “Then I will simply disembowel you and leave you to die as a warning. Which would you prefer?”
Victor stayed there for a few moments, his head bowed. The blood flow had already stopped, but he could feel that re-growth was going to take much longer than simply healing the gashes. His weapons were gone. He had never felt so naked in his life. Victor raised his head and wearily looked at the other man.
“Can I assume that silence is not an assent to disembowelling?” Laval purred softly. “Get on with it.”
The collar dug into his neck as Victor shifted, then stayed perfectly still as he tried to think it over. His body was still trembling through shock, which was something that he couldn’t entirely control. He would probably survive the disembowelling on him, but god, the pain. And after all, how bad could male sex really be?
He tried to stop listening to his mind that was raging against the indignity. Victor growled, a soft, vicious sound in the back of his throat, and slowly shifted forward on hands and knees. The erect penis was in his mouth before he had time to think it over, large and slightly salty; the tip tried to force its way back and Victor gagged before he could stop himself.
“Hmm. You are inexperienced.” Laval pondered it over, and then withdrew. “I’ll wait until you’re penetrated. I’m not having you bite me out of shock,”
Victor said nothing, simply panting softly and staring blankly at the floor. He didn’t move as he felt a sudden burst of pain blossom across his right buttock and down into his thigh as his trousers were sliced open with a knife, then felt his legs kicked apart. He bit his bottom lip hard, willing himself not to make a sound.
He failed.
His teeth clamped down even harder on his lip, cutting off the shocked noise that had emerged, traitorously, from his throat as he felt a hard, hot length force its way into him. His lower body was on fire, a strange, rolling, endless agony that seemed to burn even brighter whenever he moved. His body had automatically clamped down on the intruder and this merely made things worse, grating with each movement until everything screamed at him.
There was a low chuckle from behind him.
“Definitely not a demon,” the mountain said in amusement, shifting his hips and sending another burst of misery throughout Victor’s body. “I’m sure they don’t make that sound,”
“I told you,” Laval shrugged. “An idiotic child, that’s all he is.”
There was a little rattle as he shook a small pot which no doubt contained the stolen teeth and claws.
“And now I have evidence that even demon children cower from me,” the satisfaction in his voice was tremendous. Victor’s remaining teeth bit even harder into his lip, anger and shame bubbling through him as he tried to focus on something, anything else. His claw-less fingers scrabbled on the floor briefly before he forced himself to stay still as the other man moved inside him.
He hadn’t escaped even when the thrusts began to move a little easier; Victor looked up slowly as Laval stepped closer, an eyebrow raised at him. Victor growled softly, anger slowly beginning to take over from the shame, but without weapons he was powerless. If he fought, they were even less likely to release him.
“I do believe our little pup wants to gut me,” Laval said in amusement. “Isn’t that sweet? Open up, child.”
This request was emphasised by a harder thrust deep within him. Victor winced, and reluctantly opened his mouth. The salty taste hadn’t gotten any better, although he was careful not to gag even as his body was rocked by the powerful thrusts from behind him.
Don’t bite, don’t bite, don’t bite-
It turned out he didn’t have to do much. Within a few moments, the fox-man had already started to thrust in his mouth and Victor found he could simply stay still and simply take the punishment that was being inflicted on his body. Eventually he felt the shuddered release deep within him, followed swiftly by a flood of salty liquid over his tongue. Victor choked, swallowed and gasped, bowing his head as he struggled to recover.
He had two minutes. After that point, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, released from the collar, and all but dragged back up the stairs. Victor’s feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor as he was pulled backwards, Laval following him with a completely careless expression on his face.
“Remember.” Laval said softly and dangerously, gripping hold of Victor’s jaw to stop the youth from looking away. “You go and you don’t come back. If you do, you and your pretty little friend will have a little accident. Clear?”
Victor scowled at him, then had to save himself from falling flat on his face as the hand around his collar dropped him like trash. He rolled over and got to his hands and knees, pushing himself back up and slowly, shakily, walking away with a suspicious look over his shoulder.
He didn’t see them again until five years later, when he came back and slaughtered everyone.
Absence always did make the heart grow fonder.
