6. A Troublesome Reality

Bjorn didn’t make it very far. He lurched as if in a drunken nightmare, the sound of dozens of bare feet thumping on the stone floor as they overtook him. 

He went down in a pile of naked, hairy bodies. Male, female, no matter. They were all over him, wrestling him to the cold floor and tearing at his clothes. He fought desperately, but he was hopelessly outnumbered.

Dragged to the center of the room and onto the dais, a hairy person on either arm and several more trailing, Bjorn feared this was the end. He was flung down on the middle of the raised stone platform, clearly being made a spectacle.

“Bjorn Haraldsson, I presume?” said the cult leader in a smooth, deep voice. His words reverberated off the walls of the torch-lit cavern. He was tall and muscular, a layer of short brown hair covering his naked frame. His cock was enormous and swung like a menacing sword with each of his steps. He circled Bjorn, sizing him up.

Bjorn didn’t answer. He merely looked up, making eye contact and fearing the worst. 

The cult leader smirked, “yes, it is you. But what shall we do with you?” He spoke to Bjorn, but loud enough that every ear could hear. The cult leader then turned and addressed the crowd. “This man is Bjorn Haraldsson, protector of one of our newest members. Chelsea, will you step forward please?”

Chelsea, almost as if in a trance, climbed onto the dais. Bjorn, stripped naked to resemble the others, felt his loins pulsing watching his young girlfriend approaching. She had such great tits, and that layer of hair over her body drove his fetish for hairy pussy wild. He couldn’t help it– his cock sprang to attention, out of fear, out of lust, out of a sheer sense of self-perseverance. 

“Chelsea,” Cult Leader cooed enticingly, “does this man take good care of you?” 

Almost in a trance, Chelsea responded with an aroused whisper, “he does, my Lord.” 

“Hmmm…then prove it to us.”

Chelsea uttered a low, hungry growl, dropping to all fours like a wolf. She slinked towards Bjorn, who wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or ready for some incredible sex. He decided both feelings were appropriate right now. 

The crowd began chanting as Chelsea slid her hairy, petite body over Bjorn’s smooth skin, straddling him and pushing his throbbing cock between her cheeks for the audience to see. Then she rolled her hips so he could enter.

She pushed her pelvis down, swallowing him with her body. Hands on his chest, she reared back in ecstasy, riding hard and pounding herself against him. Her perky boobs bounced with the rocking motion of her body. The chanting of the crowd grew louder until she let out a guttural yell, the orgasm washing over her. 

Bjorn couldn’t help himself. He grabbed her ass with both hands and exploded inside her, his cock throbbing as it pulsed to fill her body. The crowd’s chanting matched the intensity of the sex they were witness to, almost as if they had experienced the pleasure themselves. 

Bjorn let out an exhausted grunt of satisfaction, then dropped his head to the stone floor. Chelsea, hands on either side of his shoulders, hung her head over his face and grinned sheepishly. Then her head suddenly yanked back, her eyes sprang open in surprise, and she let out a squeal of frightful pain.

The cult leader, the Alpha of this pack, had lowered himself in a squat behind her naked ass, still straddling Bjorn’s waist. The Alpha’s massive cock plunged deep inside her tiny body, stretching it beyond its limit. She cried out as Alpha yanked her hair back, pounding her mercilessly.

The crowd’s chanting turned to a hungry growl. They knew the Alpha was exerting the dominance over the new female that his station allowed. He owned this pack and everyone in it. He was marking his territory, proving to all in the audience that he was not to be denied. 

And he was staring intently at Bjorn when he emptied his balls. Chelsea felt his seed splashing inside her and she gasped in guilty pleasure. Bjorn’s stomach lurched with jealousy, knowing that his new girlfriend had just been bred by another man. He even felt the Alpha’s sperm pour out of Chelsea as he dismounted, leaving a mess all over Bjorn’s thighs. 

“Oh B, I’m so sorry,” Chelsea whimpered, almost in tears. She felt awful for what had just happened– what should be considered a public raping, but really just a proper initiation into the pack. She wondered how many of the other females, young and old, had been taken this way. She wondered how many of them could handle that man, because he had an enormous penis. She’d be sore for days.

Bjorn, heart racing, fought his anger as he rose off the cold stone floor. He sneered at the Alpha, slowly shaking his head in reproach. Never would this man, no matter who he thought he was, do something like that again.

And the Alpha knew it. 

The crowd fell silent immediately, a collective gasp of baited breath as the two men circled each other in preparation for battle. 

“Never. Again.” Bjorn muttered, fists balling for combat.

With utter seriousness, the Alpha responded, “I was only claiming what is mine.” His hands held out in a gesture of explanation, palms raised, fingers open.

“She is not yours.”

“She is mine, as are all of them,” the Alpha said, sweeping a hand across the crowd. “As are you.” His other hand pointed at Bjorn’s neck.

Bjorn’s hand shot up, clutching the side of his neck. Just above his shoulder, he felt the bite mark. Blood trickled out, smearing across his fingers.

He’d been bitten. 

He was going to turn. 

He was going to become one of them.

He was going to become a werewolf.