Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/8052226. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M, Multi, Other Fandom: Teen_Wolf_(TV) Relationship: Derek/Stiles, Derek/Bear, Stiles/Bear, Derek/Stiles/Bear, Peter/Stiles, Derek/Peter/Stiles, Stiles/Original_canine_characters, Derek_&_Deaton, Derek_&_Peter, Derek/Bear/Ruby(OMC) Character: Stiles_Stilinsk, Derek_Hale, Alan_Deaton, Peter_Hale, Deucalion, Orginal Canine_Characters, Ennis_(brief), Rosie_(Scott)_Brief Additional Tags: Contemporary_AU, Dark_Erotic_Chiller, non_Canon, OOC, Unnbeta'd._FINISHED in_draft, Posted_frequently, Irregular_Chapter_Lengths, STEREK_(but_NOT_a romance, friendship_or_love_story), Dark, Dark_Characters_except_Stiles, Alpha/_Dom/_Top/_Derek, Alpha_/Top/_Peter, Alpha/Top/Deucalion, Human Deaton, Human/Sub/_Bottom/Stiles_Rape/Non-con, BDSM_elements, Extreme Puppy_'Play', Pet, Kink, Graphic_Surgical_Procedures_(real_and_fantasy), Non-Con_Feminization, Humiliation, Dehumanization, Stockholm_Syndrome, Kidnapping, Metal/Physical/_Emotional_Manipulation, Non-con_Body Modification, Neovagina, Non-con_Drug_Use, Perversion, M/M_/Rough_/ Explicit/_Sex, Double_Anal_Penetration, Double_Penetration_(ass_&_cunt), Sexual_/Vulgar_language, Castration_(graphic), Gender_Realignment_ (graphic_)_Underage_(14), BESTIALITY_(graphic), Cultural_Bestiality, De vocalization, Some_Violence_and_Punishment, Some_A/B/O_Dynamics, Electro Shock_Collar, Knotting Stats: Published: 2016-09-16 Updated: 2016-11-25 Chapters: 6/? Words: 34414 ****** A True Artist ****** by orphan_account Summary In a world where supernatural creatures are known to a few human sympathizers and hunters the population at large is oblivious to the numbers and positions of power of werewolves. Derek Hale is an Alpha living on the outskirts of a large, wealthy werewolf community. A lone wolf who chooses to live without need, benefit or hindrance of a pack,but he is not without family . His uncle Peter Hale, also an Alpha and a younger sister Cora, a Beta whose absence he has come to appreciate.. After 29 years Derek has found his niche in life , a rare and appreciated talent for making 'Bitches' out of young male humans. Sex slaves and 'pets' for wealthy, horny Alphas who enjoy fucking them whenever and however they please. Derek's talent has made him rich and a earned him many accolades and admirers as 'A True Artist.' What will he make of one Stiles Stilinski? READ THE TAGS! DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author or other readers. I've tagged generally what I can, chapters will specify the kink/perversion included so that they can be read or avoided. Notes READ THE TAGS! They are for readers benefit and if there's anything you don't like DON'T READ. This is FICTION/FANTASY. I DO NOT CONDONE ANY FORM OF RL ABUSE, SEXUAL OR OTHERWISE TO ANY HUMAN OR ANIMAL, PERIOD. DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author or other readers. I've tagged generally what I can, chapters will specify the kink/perversion included so that they can be read or avoided. Completed in draft, chapters edited prior to posting and posted when ready. There are two endings, one STEREK one not, I don't know which I'll use depending on readers reactions. Don't look for redeeming features in Derek, there aren't any. ***** The Comission ***** [https://s20.postimg.org/5zc2vqlml/banner.jpg] Derek Hale leaned back in the executive black, leather chair behind his oak desk in his home office, steepled his fingers and scrutinized the Alpha whose was presently standing with his back to him, hands clasped in the small of his back scanning the photos on his walls. Deucalion's presence seemed to fill the entire space, which was odd because the Alpha wasn't a physically large werewolf, but he was an impressive one. Deucalion stood about five feet ten, with short, dark blond hair and a lean, athletic physique at present hidden inside a dark suit and white shirt. Dark, mirrored sunglasses gave him the air of Mafia upper echelons rather than urbane sophistication and exuded as much danger. He spoke in a clipped British accent without turning. "These are photos of all the bitches you've created?" "Mostly, over the last five or six years, yes." Derek confirmed, leaning forward slightly. The Alphas head moved minutely indicating he was listening. "There appears to be a great deal of variety." "I pride myself on producing a product to suit every pocket and taste." Derek answered evenly narrowing his intriguing green eyes on the Alpha's back, if Deucalion was attempting to intimidate him, it wasn't going to work. Deucalion gave brief reply. "Quite." And pivoted on his heels toward the desk, slipping off his sunglasses , folding them and sliding into the breast pocket of his jacket . His eyes were a chill, ice blue and settled on Derek's face, intense and assessing. Derek's lips twitched. "Take a seat Alpha Deucalion," he gestured toward the high backed, green leather chair set at the other side of his desk, "and tell me precisely what I can do for you." Derek put his elbows one on each arm of his chair and allowed his hands to flop over the side in a move of casual indifference. Deucalion stepped toward the desk and dropped gracefully into the chair with a tight smile and crossed his legs at the knee. He took a few moments to pluck and brush away an imaginary piece of lint , before draping his arms along the broad arms of the chair. Derek waited patiently. The two Alpha couldn't be more different, Deucalion's compact and sinewy form forced into the confines of a suit and Derek's broad shoulders and muscled chest straining the fabric of a grey wife beater and showcasing satin tanned skin, powerful biceps and roped, dark haired forearms ending in large hands with long, broad fingers, strong and uncompromising. Facially they were different too, Deucalion older, handsome, with refined, sharp features and a hidden cruelty in his cold Nordic blue eyes. Derek younger, with masculine , elegant, satanic dark good looks, thick brows, blade nose and square jaw shadowed with thick, black stubble and the most compelling pale, smokey green eyes. Derek's devastatingly handsome features were marred by a thin lipped mouth, a grim downturn at the corners gave him an air of cruelty, which was partially deserved. A mane of thick, black backswept hair completed Derek's bad boy catwalk good looks, neat dark blond completed Deucalion's. Deucalion inclined forward slightly. "I had the pleasure of having dinner with your uncle Peter the evening before last." He began conversationally. Derek wasn't aware his uncle and the wealthy Alpha even knew one another, but his face remained unfathomable, his heartbeat even. "I wasn't aware you'd met.." Derek replied evenly. "I trust you had a good time?" He added casually. Delightful, " Deucalion nodded, "We've been friends for some time and he served delicious black cod with asparagus followed by the most superb venison and an evening of sparkling repartee and interesting diversion what more could one ask." He made a expansive gesture with his hands. Derek forced a tight lipped smile, he knew quite well Deucalion wasn't there to exchange recipes. "Peter's an excellent host. But forgive me Alpha Deucalion," Derek leaned forward transferring his elbows onto his desk, plucking a pen from it's holder and twirling it over and over between his fingers, "you're a busy man, like myself and I'm sure you haven't come to see me to discuss my uncle's dinner parties." He raised expectant eyes and a dark eyebrow. Deucalion gave a soft snort. "Your uncle said you weren't one for small talk." "I find it's the best way." Derek's mouth spread into tight-lipped smile. "Of course." Deucalion steepled his fingers and grazed the tips long his lower lip. "As you say Peter's an excellent host and a generous one. During the course of the evening he introduced me to his bitch, Princess." Derek relaxed into the chair. "To say that I was takenwith her would be an understatement," Deucalion continued, "I found her a beautiful, fascinating creature and marveled at her sexual skills, submission, lewdness and selfless devotion to our pleasure. She reveled in erotic pain and wicked obscenity and was almost perfect." Derek stiffened. "Almost?"He questioned. "I mean no criticism." Deucalion raised his palm in a gesture of peace, "she was perfect in every way but I would have preferred a less angelic look and dark eyes, perhaps paler skin and thicker lips. Regarding her training, I found no fault with it, she was correctly submissive , apparently without limits, sexually expert and obliging." "You fucked her." Derek said simply, it wasn't surprising, Peter like to show off the bitch's skills and accept the kudos. "I did," Deucalion' s eyes heated and mouth twisted into a smile. "Peter was generous enough to allow me to take part in threesome, I found it invigorating, exciting, her mouth skilled and as good as her ass,which despite being tight, stretched to accommodate Peter and I with little problem. Later I was treated to a very pleasant show of her being pissed on and fucked by three of Peter's dogs. Those great ugly, hulking beasts he takes such pride in breeding." Derek's smile mirrored Deucalion's. "I doubt he would appreciate their being called ugly, I have one of them myself. Bear, a present from Peter." "Each to his own," Deucalion pursed his lips, " I'm aware of their popularity although I have to confess you don't strike me as the type to keep a dog as a pet, even one of Peter's purpose bred beasts." Derek let the pen fall from his fingers and roll across the desk. "Bear's not so much a pet as tool of the trade. I keep him in a kennel run out back." "Ah," Deucalion nodded, "you allow him to fuck the bitches?" "As part of their training, yes. I find it concentrates their mind wonderfully and shows them their proper place in the hierarchy of things. " His mouth pulled into a sour grin. "Not to mention that it teaches them they can be fucked anywhere, at anytime, by anything at their Alpha's whim." "And satisfies their greedy holes." "Precisely. By the time I'm finished they're cock hungry cum sluts that can't go for long unless their ass or cunts are filled and their bellies obscenely distended with cum." Both Alpha gave twin smiles of sharp, satanic delight. "I believe we can do business." Deucalion relaxed back into the enfolding comfort of the chair. "Peter explained that you were responsible for creating Princess." "A gift to my uncle for being helpful in my recent move to these purpose built premises." "He told me you'd moved recently." "Yes, " Derek responded, "this place is twice as big as the last and has proper facilities for housing a bitch in training, even medical facilities. A state-of -the -art operating theater and hospital so that we can carry out all the modifications and medical procedures here without disturbing training." "How many bitch's do you train at one time?" "Just one." Deucalion raised an eye brow. "One?" He echoed. "Yes," Derek swiped his hand over his rough chin, "I'm hands on when it comes to training, I don't employ anyone else. I trade on my good name and it's my reputation on the line, so I do the training. I can create a basic bitch, castrated and trained in three months, sometimes less at cost of $30,000. If more modification, medical procedures and specialist training are wanted it takes longer," he gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, "and costs proportionately more." Deucalion nodded. "You're preaching to the converted, your reputation preceded you long before I spoke to Peter. I doubt very much there's a werewolf in this community and beyond doesn't know who you are and what you do." He leant toward Derek. "Your a true artist Derek and I want you to create a bitch for me." Derek pushed back into his seat narrowing his eyes on the Alpha opposite. "Alpha Deucalion I am not the only one whose reputation precedes them. " He made vague hand gesture. "It would be a small matter for you to obtain a boy yourself and turn him into a bitch to suit your needs. Both you and I know your more than experienced in breaking humans." "It's true." Deucalion agreed with a tip of his head, "I can and would but I fear you flatter me," his cold blue eyes swept up to Derek's face, "I don't have the kind of patience, restraint needed to make someone like Princess, humans are so delicate and I'm afraid breaking is the operative word. Nor do I have the time to devote to such an ambitious project. Peter assures me that you are the wolf for the job and couldn't sing your praises highly enough especially given the dreadful circumstances in which you lost your parents, sister and relatives to human hunters." Tension rolled through Derek's body at the mention of the arson attack which destroyed his childhood home claiming the lives of his parents, several relatives and older sister. Only he, Peter and Derek's younger sister, Cora survived. " It was thirteen years ago." Derek murmured without emotion. "I doubt that is much comfort." Deucalion's eyes came up to study Derek's face intently. "How you must hate humans." Derek grunted. "To hate them implies a strong feeling toward them I don't possess, I don't care enough about them to feel hate. I find them incredibly stupid, slow, diabolically clever, treacherous, deceitful, untrustworthy, woefully lacking in senses, instinct, disloyal to even their own kind and capable of genocide, planetary destruction and species extinction." Deucalion raised his eyebrows. "But you don't hate them." He said in a voice colored with wry amusement. Derek didn't care how it sounded and no doubt a psychologist would disagree, but he didn't hate all humans, he just didn't have much time for them. He enjoyed taking a boy and turning them into a creature devoted to serving werewolves, bending their knee and finding joy in being exactly what they were meant to be, a sexual plaything for a superior being. It was when they tried to be something else that humans became a problem. "No," Derek reiterated, "I get pleasure seeing them liberated from what they think they should be into what they are actually capable of being." Damn, Deucaion almost believed Derek believed what he was saying. "Your motives for doing what you do don't concern me, your abilities to get the job done, do. I have no patience for bleeding hearts who say we should treat humans more ethically. " Derek's eyes caught and held Deucalion's . "I can produce what you want." "Good." Deucalion threaded his slender fingers together. "When can you begin?"   Derek's right hand swept up the tablet from the top of his desk and it sprang to life as his finger skimmed across the screen. His eyes lifted up momentarily. "You wish to commission me?" "Yes." "I'll need to draw up a contract with all the details." "Whatever." Deucalion answered irascibly. "When can you begin?" "I have a bitch ready to go to her new master the day after tomorrow." Deucalion's face brightened. "Splendid!" Derek gave a dark chuckle. "Not so fast, I need to acquire a suitable boy first and check he's healthy before I can think about beginning. I don't want him having a heart attack on me he first time I shift." Deucalion made an exasperated gesture with his hands. "Whatever you say." "I need some details, what kind of subject am I looking to acquire?" A brief moue of thought creased Deucalion's mouth. "Dark hair and eyes, pale skin, paler than Princess if possible, slender, slight build, but wiry, long lean muscles, pretty, but not too feminine and as young as possible. I want my money's worth out of her." His head lifted and Derek's eyes narrowed. "I don't deal in children." "Why, moral objection? " Deucalion asked with a sneer on his face. Derek sat back. "No. I've learned from bitter experience that boys under the age of about thirteen can't take being fucked by an Aphla and their physically incapable of taking a knot. It rips them up too much and at best they take weeks to heal, they get too slack or worse are too damaged to recover." Deucalion gave a derisory snort. "The life of a bitch is only fifteen years or so, humans age too fast to stay pretty and then they have to be replaced." "There's an active market for older bitches in brothels and Alpha clubs." Derek reasoned. "I will get very little money back." "You'll get fifteen years out of a fifteen or sixteen year old and they're still young enough to train without breaking them too much, there's always the danger younger ones shatter mentally." "Very well," Deucalion huffed, "I leave the age in your hands, but draw the line at seventeen." "My upper limit is sixteen." Deucalion grunted. Derek's finger flicked across the tablet screen. "I'll draw up and send you the contract, you can return it in person when you come to confirm the suitability of the subject I've chosen." His green eyes met blue. "Satisfactory?" Deucalion nodded. Hale assumed a business-like air. " For $30,000 you get a bitch no older than fifteen, castrated, basic training in submission and sex, hormonal implant to prevent growth of body hair, beard." He looked from the screen to Deucalion. "It also gives them softer, more curvaceous bodies, improves temperament, enlarges nipples and shrinks the cock a little. For a lot of Alpha it's enough and they use gags, mitts, cock cages and whatnot for the rest." Deucalion's coolly impersonal voice broke the stillness. "I want everything." Derek nodded. "How about I run through the list and you say yes or no?" "That's acceptable." "Cock reduction or sexual re-assignment." Derek began. "Sexual re-assignment?" Deucalion raised his eyebrow. "If I wanted a female..." "Ah, no, " Derek cut him off, "the addition of a neovagina, another hole to fuck." The older Alpha's eyes lit with interest. "Intriguing." "It's done at the same time as castration. The castration is done as normal." Derek's voice warmed as he spoke of the familiar procedure. "Very simply the sheath is cut away from behind the head of the cock and rolled down the shaft and then the cock deconstructed and the sheath becomes the vagina, the head of the cock the clit and the excess skin of the nut sac the lips of the vagina. It looks very good and you have a cunt to fuck." "Sounds fascinating." "It is. I can arrange for you to view the procedure if you like. Princess wasn't done, just her cock docked, but it gives you the option of three holes to fill." Derek's face slid into a twisted, dark smile. "Yes I think I'd like that." Derek pressed the tablet screen. "Partial or complete de vocalization?" "Want to hear her scream." Derek looked at the blonde Alpha. "A lot of my clients don't bother. I can train her not to speak if you wish, for the rest there's gags and if like Peter, you don't want her to be able to form words but still want the option of using a gag to render her entirely mute, partial de vocalization allows her to make a wide range of noises but not form words. You don't have the hassle of removing the gag for drinking and feeding." He drew his wide shoulders up into a shrug. "It's your choice. It's not invasive, done with lasers and just gives her a sore throat."He waited expectantly. Deucalion gave a moue of thought and furrowed his brow. "I think I'll go with partial." Derek nodded and tapped the screen. "Do you want the tendons in the fingers severed? It renders the hands useless as hands, she can't grip, can't even make a fist. She won't be able to wank you but hey," he gave a cynical smile, "there's always her mouth. Makes her helpless without using fist mitts." A devilish delight moved in Deucalion's eyes. "Definitely. "Breasts ? Hormone injections into the nipple produce small breasts. A nice handful." Derek held his hand as if weighing and mimicked squeezing. "If you want something bigger you can always go for implants." "And risk losing sensation? No, Deucalion huffed, " small is fine, I want an androgynous look not too feminine. Besides Princess's titties were ideal for clamps, piercing's and nipple torture." Derek answered with an impersonal nod of his head. "I can do any piercing's, tattoos and branding you like." "I'll bear that in mind although I might like to do that myself." "Of course." Derek answered mildly. "Now the last procedure is the most difficult, controversial and expensive." He leaned back in his chair holding the tablet in one hand and making a vague gesture with the other. "No doubt you noted how Princess moved." "It was one of the things I most admired, so graceful and nimble, I've never seen it before. One is used to seeing them crawl on hands and knees they become most accomplished, it's subservient but , a not the most graceful method of locomotion. I noticed she walked on the balls of her feet and was unable to straighten her legs." "It's not hard to make it so they stay on all fours. Simply tie the ankles to the thighs and after a couple of months they find it so painful to stand upright, they don't try, a few more months and the muscles waste and tendons shorten and they can't stand upright without help. But Princess underwent surgery to reconstruct her legs. The doctor I use is a genius, a very clever man, even Peter would say diabolically so. He's a qualified vet, doctor and surgeon." Deucalion's eyes narrowed on the younger Alpha. " Human?" "Yes, but his family have been sympathizers, healers and emissaries to our kind for generations." Hale rushed to assure him. "I've used him for years and he's perfected many of his surgeries from operating on animals, especially dogs. Alan Deaton is one of a kind, he has a bitch himself Belle, had her three years. I won't bore you with the details..." "Please don't." Deucalion snorted. " He cuts a length off the Femur , Tibia and Fibula shortening the leg, replaces it with a shortened length of a titanium implant with hinge for a knee joint. The bones actually fuse onto the ends and grow into the implant. The knee is much higher, like in the dog, he realigns the foot and the result is that instead of crawling on hands and knees, after a few months they're running about on hands and the balls of their feet." "Excellent, we'll do that." Deucalion gave a sharp smile. "Right so I'll read back what you want done. Derek scrolled back. Gender reassignment, partial de vocalization, " he began to reel through he procedures in a low, even tone, "tendons in the fingers severed, no to breast implants, we'll discuss piercing's, tattoos and branding, and the leg surgery." Derek's eyes lifted from the screen of the tablet expectantly as Decalion cleared his throat. "Alpha?" "Peter mentioned that you were toying with the idea of tails?" A ghost of a smile hovered around Derek's mouth. "It's something we've tried." "I'd be very interested. The idea of using a tail to lift her ass and pull her back onto my cock is something which I find - appealing." Deuclion subtly adjusted his crotch. "Alan can fuse a tail to the coccyx without a problem, even supply it with nerves and blood so that it has sensation, but he has yet to solve the movement issue, it just hangs." Derek made a hopeless gesture. "I'd be interested just the same." Deucalion pressed. "I'll see what Deaton says, we can always do it last. In the meantime I'll draw up the contract and get it to you." Deucalion nodded. "So how long am I looking to waiting before delivery?" Derek chuckled. The older Alpha scowled. "I didn't realize I'd said something humorous." He said tartly. "I'm sorry it's just most Alpha ask how much not how long." "I'm wealthy, money is not a concern," Deucalion said with emphasis, "however my impatience is." Derek pursed his lips and totted up the time in his head. "Along with the training you are looking at between seven and ten months, nearer seven if the bitch heals quickly and doesn't fight the training." "That's ridiculous!" Decalion spluttered. "And a cost of $225,000." Derek added calmly. It takes a three weeks to get over the sexual realignment surgery, seven days for the hands and three months or longer for the legs and then there's rehabilitation." He shook his head resignedly and looked up. "The only way to cut the time is to cut the surgery." Deucalion snorted. "I want to be informed every step of the way, to see her when I like." Derek gave a brief affirmative tip of his head. "You can see her, even fuck her as long as it doesn't interfere with her program." Deucalion grunted. "I suppose I can be patient to get what I want." Derek lay the tablet on the desk. "Shall I draw up a contract - have we a deal?" He leaned forward and extended his big hand across the desk. Deucalion inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly and then mirrored Derek's movement meeting him half way. "We have a deal." They shook hands... ***** Ruby ***** Chapter Notes Warnings: Graphic Bestiality, Wrist Locked Mittens, Restraint, Breeding Bench, knotting. (I am SO going to hell, anyone wanting to go with me, I'm taking bookings!)  DON'T be the person who intentionally reads something you know you're not going to like, then leaves a comment trying to shame the author or other readers. Derek's muscular frame filled the doorway as he watched Deucalion leave. The older Alpha strode toward the long, black limousine parked on the pale gravel drive outside the house. In the distance Bear's booming bark echoed through the stillness from the run of his kennel as Deucalion's burly Alpha driver come bodyguard, opened the rear door of the car. The Alpha driver was an impressive, if not a particularly handsome brute, six feet four of pure muscle and brawn wedged in a tight, short sleeved, black Tee- shirt straining across his chest and around impressive biceps. His look was completed by tight, black jeans hugging thick, muscular thighs, a broad leather belt around a trim waist, black, mirrored sunglasses and light, black boots. The afternoon sun bounced off his bald head. He lacked Derek's elegance and sculpted look in favor of raw boned power meant to intimidate. "Thank you Ennis." Deucalion muttered as he slid gracefully onto the back seat of the car. Ennis secured the door. The driver turned toward the house and for a moment , behind the sunglasses Ennis eyes met Derek's, narrowed and hardened. Derek refused to look away, his expression relaxed and unfathomable, not an Alpha to back down or be intimidated as Ennis was used to. For a long moment they assessed each other and then Ennis rounded the front of the car, opened the driver's door and slid behind the wheel. Moments later Derek stepped out of the doorway onto the drive and watched the limousine glide into the distance. Derek turned, it was late afternoon and the sun rolled along the tops of the leafy trees that surrounded the property beyond the exercise field with it's trimmed grass and further to the left out buildings and double garage. Two vehicles were drawn up outside the garage, one a sleek, black 2016 Camaro Z1 and the other a 2016 Mercedes G350 SUV in metallic Desert Sand, both vehicles had heavily tinted windows. The birds sang and Derek inhaled a long breath and exhaled slowly looking at the house. He had only lived there two months and he loved the place. I was purpose built to his own design and his uncle had helped him secure the sizeable piece of land the house was built on. The house was multi roomed on two levels, far bigger than Derek needed, but he liked space. He indulged himself in a state-of-the-art kitchen filled with gadgets where he cooked and experimented with meals that he tried out on his uncle and Dr Alan Deaton, a walk in freezer (handy for storing whole deer) and an overlarge wet room with large multi headed shower cubicle and double sized, egg shaped tub with whirlpool action. For the rest there was a large master bedroom, three smaller bedrooms, three other conventional bathrooms, a multi gym, home office, utility room, lounge and entertainment rooms, home office and a small library where he loved to read his collection of first editions. The house was open and airy, floor to ceiling windows, uncluttered and sparsely furnished with expensive, elegant , functional furniture, hard wood floors, thick Aubusson rugs and painted walls in forest shades, restful and tranquil. He had a Beta cleaner come in three times a week and her Beta son and husband looked after the extensive grounds. Creating bitches for wealthy Alpha clients, paid well. His pride and joy were the purpose built bitch quarters housed in an extension on the side of the house and accessed from both in and outside. It was long and low, the windows set up high so that the outside world seemed remote and distant but let in plenty of natural light. The climate inside was carefully controlled, pleasantly warm Summer and Winter, a must when dealing with naked humans. The kennel was in fact more like a small cell with white tiled walls and black and white tiled floor sloping down gently to a long drain just beyond the bars that made hosing out easy, three walls and a barred front with attachments for the stainless steel feeding bowl and overlarge hamster- like, spouted water bottle (much more hygienic than a bowl and spill proof). A large platform jutted out from the wall, four inches above the floor, on it was a thin mattress with a waterproof cover and a tartan blanket, there was no outside run. On the wall directly opposite the kennel was a large, flat panel TV and beyond the kennel other rooms, a bathroom with bath, a shower attachment (set down low and with a long, flexible hose for use in the bath) had a bi valve so that water could be diverted to the enema kit, a long , flexible metal hose with a slim probe for internal cleansing. There were other rooms, the medical examination room, the one bed hospital room, the small, vacuum sealed, state-of-the-art , sterile operating theater, a mini BDSM play room, food storage and preparation area, and Derek's favorite, the breeding room with it's breeding stand, bench, dark oak armoire of sex toys, multi tailed floggers, restraints and adjustable spreader bars. Derek took a moment to admire the set up, so much better than his last place. Twice as big, no near neighbors and set in countryside with the bustling werewolf town only twenty minutes drive one way and his uncle's Hale Kennels ten minutes the other. It was ideal and away from the prying eyes of S.E.T.H. - Society for the Ethical Treatment of Humans a small, annoying bunch of mostly youthful werewolves who wanted better treatment for humans in their society. They had few sympathizers and less support, but they were vocal and had once attempted to rescue one of Derek's bitches from her kennel, it was unsuccessful and left the poor creature traumatized. When would they realize the treachery and danger of humans and that once trained for their true vocation they didn't need or want rescuing. It made the news and generated the kind of publicity that money can't buy. Everyone supported Derek, he was never able to match demand to supply and overnight commissions trebled, he had to limit himself to wealthiest clients, his books overflowed and demand far outstripped his ability to create, of course he could have hired people, delegated training, God knows it was easy enough to obtain subjects. Human teenage boys were always running away from home and never being heard from again, some parents didn't even care...but that wasn't his way. What he had said to Deucalion was true, he was very much hands on, besides he was as horny as the next Alpha, between fucking bitches, the Omega Brothels and Alpha Clubs his sexual appitite's and kinks were largely catered for. Derek had his next commission, he felt the familiar rush he always got at the prospect of a new bitch to train. Of course Deuclion wasn't the only Alpha waiting, but he was the wealthiest and his bitch by far the most financially rewarding. Few Alpha wanted the full works, most settled for something in between basic and the whole nine yards. The prospect of working on Deucalon's bitch exhilarated Derek and pushed Deucalion to the head of the queue and for the next six to ten months Derek had his work set and would accept no further commissions. God he loved his work. But, for the moment there was Ruby. Ruby was his present bitch and ready to go to her new home the day after tomorrow, her training and transformation into a perfect bitch complete. Ruby had been an easy commission, Alpha Tanner didn't want much in the way of physical alteration- castration, partial de vocalization and a hormonal implant beneath the skin to ensure small breasts, a complete lack of body hair, a more curvaceous than angular body, light muscle and a shrunken cock. Personally Derek would have had the cock docked to half an inch or so, it was more esthetically pleasing and it wasn't as if it was useful. Her sexual training had been extensive, almost as extensive as Princess, resulting in a lewd, obscene creature who reveled in submission, degradation, abasement and pain. A priapic monster at fourteen. Tomorrow was her last visit to Deaton's clinic for a final health check, microchip implant with all the information about her new owner and to ensure her tracking chip was working. Talk of Deucalion's commission had reawakened Derek's arousal, he'd already played with and fucked Ruby earlier in the day but his balls felt full , heavy between his legs, his cock was semi hard, the hum of arousal spiraled and sparked throughout his body, besides Ruby wouldn't mind or Bear, who was feeling neglected . Derek adjusted himself in his tight, blue jeans, he'd indulge himself for a couple of hours while he had the chance, bed Ruby and Bear down for the night and make some calls to put in motion the search for a suitable subject for Deuclion's bitch, it would take awhile, a week or more. Then he'd do some purchasing from the specialist online sex and BDSM outlets, at the very minimum he needed a leather harness, bone shaped gag, padded fist and foot mitts, a new set of butt plugs, a shock collar and regular leather dog collar in pink. The rest of the sexual paraphernalia he had, he'd just sterilize it ready for use with the new bitch. Derek strode purposefully between the house and the fenced exercise field with a spring in his step, following the path that led past the garages and out buildings toward Bear's kennel block. The kennel block consisted of a brick built indoor kennel made up of sleeping quarters and food preparation room with it's own fridge/freezer, sink and table and a large, paved and fenced outside run. It looked for all the world like an old fashioned cage at a zoo, high metal bars rather than the familiar wire fenced the run and it looked suitable for a wild, exotic animal. Bear was in his run and pacing irascibly along the fence, aggravated by Deucalion's visit, he lifted his head and stilled when he saw Derek approach, pricking his triangular, upright ears. Deucalion was right, the massive beast in the run could hardly be called beautiful, impressive, intimidating even magnificent - yes, but not beautiful. He was a creature of Peter Hale's own breeding designed as a companion for werewolves, especially Alpha and an extra line of defense for their families and packs. Irish Wolfhound and Great Dane for height and temperament, English Bull Mastiff and American Bulldog for weight, strength and tenacity, Tibetan Mastiff, Pit Bull and Timber Wolf for aggression, pack mentality, and acceptance of hierarchy. The result was a beast that wouldn't have looked out of place guarding the gates of hell or hunting at an Alpha's side. It had taken Peter more than ten years to perfect the Hale Hound and demand outstripped his ability to produce them, they rivaled Derek's bitches in popularity. Bear was a fine example of his breeding. Standing well in excess of three feet at the shoulder he fell short of Derek's waist by only a few inches and weighed in at a lean 240 pounds. His legs were as thick as Derek's lower forearm, his ribs well sprung and his chest deep. His head was most like a wolf with prick ears, eerie, pale gray eyes, pointed medium sized muzzle, and large maw armed with impressive fangs. His coat was gray marl, rough, medium-length, waterproof guard hairs most like the wolfhound and a soft , thick undercoat like a wolf and a wolf's tail carried level with his back. Bear's relationship with Derek was best described in werewolf terms, he was Beta to Derek's Alpha and they had respect for each other rather than affection. In another world Bear would have been an Alpha to his own pack of dogs, here he occasionally tested his limits, but generally accepted Derek as his Alpha and was extremely loyal. The bitch was Omega to them both and Derek was a generous Alpha allowing Bear to fuck her frequently, once she was ready to take his impressive knot . As Derek neared his run, Bear's tongue lolled out , head lowered and his tail swished slowly from side to side in greeting, he wasn't an ebullient dog and not given to any extreme display of emotion except arousal. Derek reached the kennel and Bear watched with interest as he unlocked his run, looking beyond him for any sign of the current bitch and disappointed when there was none. Derek swung the door of the run open, but Bear didn't move. "Out Bear." At his Alpha's command Bear trotted through the open door and stood expectantly beside Derek on the path. Derek rested his hand on Bear's broad, brown leather collar embellished with brass spikes. "Let's go and have some fun with Ruby, huh boy?" The Alpha murmured with a salcious smile and side by side they walked back toward the extension.   Derek and Bear entered the extension through the side door from outside. There was still enough afternoon light filtering through the high windows into the block that Derek didn't need to flick on the long fluorescent tubes that ran the full length of the building. He closed the door and ordered Bear to sit and stay whilst he went to check on Ruby. The bitch was in her cell-like kennel, laid dozing on the bed nestled in the red tartan blanket. Ruby raised her head as soon as she heard Derek and Bear enter and shut the door behind them and gazed at them with sleepy expectation and curiosity. As Derek took a step toward the kennel she slithered off the bed onto all fours, yawned and crawled on her hands and knees to the bars at the front of the cell. She was a naked, pretty creature and her movements fluid and not without grace. The most difficult thing about fulfilling Alpha Tanner's commission was that like Deucalion, he had been very specific about what he wanted. He wanted a bitch as young as possible with flaming red hair, green eyes, slender, slight build and freckles, freckles and green eyes were non negotiable. It had taken Derek three weeks to obtain the right boy after looking at several, either they were too old, their hair wasn't red enough, they didn't have freckles or their eyes were brown. Then one of his pimp contacts had found Ruby. The boy was ideal, just turned fourteen when Derek got him. A pretty, soft face still round with puppy fat, a riot of freckles over the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks, his back and upper chest, flaming red hair with a loose, curled and tousled look, slight build, lightly tanned skin and large eyes the color of polished emeralds under golden red brows and long lashes. Tanner had declared him perfect and Derek got to work. Ruby was a dream to work with. The product of a physically and sexually abusive father and a drug addict mother he had been neglected and abused for years. He soaked up Derek's attention like a sponge and craved any sign of kindness or praise Derek tossed his way. Ruby was both eager to please, submissive and highly responsive. Despite a poor academic ability, he learned quickly and responded positively to both punishment and paise. He had inherited his mother's addictive personality, and was soon addicted to sex, crying and miserable if he went more than a few hours without being fucked. The bitch had initially balked at being fucked by Bear, Derek had disillusioned her of the fact she had any choice in the matter by loading her into the back of the SUV, taking her to Peter's kennels and putting her in a breeding stand and releasing several of Peter's most enthusiastic studs on her. She was bred eight times in succession and subsequently wore Bear out with her demands for sex whenever Derek allowed it. Ruby was castrated and partially de vocalized from the outset and combined with a hormone implant his body was hairless, softly curved and he had small, puffy breasts, large dusky rose nipples and a cock which shrunk to a bear three and a half inches and was more or less useless. He became she. Ruby wore red leather padded mittens like a boxer's gloves, without thumbs that buckled around the wrist and similar on her feet, secured round the ankles and thick knee pads. For a long time she wore leg restraints to keep her on her knees, now she couldn't stand upright without support and no longer thought of doing so. She could make a variety of muffled noises, grunts, squeals, groans, moans, soft screams but couldn't form words. Ruby' s pride and joy was her inch and a half wide, pink, leather collar and comfortable red, leather harness that Derek used to maneuver and even carry her and which she always wore. "Hello Ruby," Derek placed his thumb on the complex biometric interface that released the door of the kennel with a soft click, "want to come out and play with me and Bear?" Ruby looked up at Derek with a rather stupid, guileless expression. She didn't exactly understand what was being said but she recognized her name and Bear's, out and play and saw Derek's lascivious smile that made her shiver, along with the husky tone of his voice and sensuous flame in his eye. Her eyes dropped to Derek's crotch and the bulge there made her pulse race and body ache to be filled. She crawled forward eagerly and Derek chuckled when she nuzzled his crotch pushing at his hardening cock and his fingers twisted into her hair. "Eager cock slut." It wasn't said unkindly and behind them Bear panted and whined eagerly, his eyes bright and fixed on the pretty bitch's ass. Derek combed his fingers through Ruby's red tresses and allowed his nails to scratch her scalp, she gave a low whine and pushed into his touch. He had to admit he'd miss fucking her, which was unusual as redheads didn't normally appeal, there again he'd have a new bitch to replace her soon enough. His shoulders drew up into a brief, casual shrug. Derek released his grip on the bitch's hair . "Come on girl, let's not make Bear wait." Derek ruffled her hair too roughly to be really affectionate, but Ruby didn't seem to notice. "Breeding Room." Derek's command made Ruby's muscles tighten and the bood rush through her veins as she set off crawling ahead in the direction of the room directly at the end of the building. Derek followed leaving Bear where he was, whining and shuddering with frustration and excitement. "Won't be long boy." Derek promised as he followed Ruby with a measured tread, enjoying the roll of the round globes of her ass and winking pink pucker, tightly furled as she moved ahead of him with swaying hips. Derek was glad Deaton's injections directly into the rectum made plugging and preparation unnecessary, the injections improved elasticity of the rim and muscles as well as toughened the skin and flesh to prevent tearing. At Ruby's stage she could be fisted dry and not suffer damage and her hole return to being tight within ten minutes from wide and gaping. It was a huge selling point, meant bitches were always ready to be fucked and never resulted in slack, sloppy holes, no matter how often they were bred or injured. It was well known Alpha's were inclined to skip foreplay , in their wolf forms, they didn't stop to lube up and humans didn't heal quickly not even as quickly as Omega... When she reached the door of the Breeding Room Ruby nosed the door open and continued inside, her movements picked up by sensors and the lights turned on automatically in the windowless room. The room was larger than you'd expect, plain, pale green walls and white ceiling with recessed lighting. A black rubberized floor for comfort when lying or crawling, thick crash mats like those used in martial arts allowed rough and tumble play, a spouted water bottle, filled and attached to the wall at bitch height and several pieces of furniture. A dark oak armoire in the corner, a man-sized cage for all the world like an oversized dog crate with rubberized mat, a complex looking breeding stand bolted to the floor all polished chrome and dark green leather with multi points of restraint and adjustment and a much simpler breeding bench like a broad saw horse. The A shaped wooden legs of the breeding bench had wrist and ankle cuffs and the bench itself was thickly padded and covered in well worn green leather and the whole thing bolted to the floor. By far the most odd thing in the room was a green leather Chesterfield couch. Derek went over to the breeding bench and clicked his fingers, without further bidding Ruby draped herself over the bench, letting her head hang over one end, her ass the other, her chest and upper abdomen supported by the bench. Derek ran one hand over her ass, enjoying the feel of silky skin and twitching muscles beneath . "Good bitch, ready to be fucked and please your studs?" A shiver answered his question. Ruby's insides quaked with excitement. Derek bent and secured the wrist and ankle cuffs, he knew there was little need, Ruby would stay in place no matter what, but what he planned was going to be rough and she could be knocked out of place and he wanted her secure, but with more movement than in the restrictive breeding stand. He took step back and admired her helpless beauty, open and vulnerable to anything he cared to do. Derek's cock hardened with ferocious speed. He crossed his arms and grasped the hem of his wife beater and tugged it up and over his head and tossed it away. The light sheened off Derek's tanned skin and his muscles rippled , bunched and flexed. His chest had a mat of fine, dark hair and he toed off his boots and socks, whistling for Bear as he did so and snapping the leather through the buckle of his belt, the soft swish of leather through denim, the soft thud as it hit the floor. A background of drumming paws as Bear galloped eagerly into the room and skidded to a halt as Derek's jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles and Ruby whined as he stepped out of them and kicked them away. The Alpha's cock was a wide, tall column of turgid flesh against his belly, thick veins like a complex road map up it's length and flaring out with a knot of erectile tissue where his cock disappeared into a tangle of wiry, dark hair and below ripe balls like firm peaches. His hips were lean, angular, his waist narrow and thighs tightly muscled, the skin covered in a smattering of hair , virile and masculine, his buttocks high, round and firm. Derek stroked himself languidly as Bear waited expectantly, his fingers cuffed just below the flared head and teased the bundle of nerves there until he hissed and electricity arced up his spine. Bear and Ruby waited, bodies wound tight as Derek ground his teeth and sucked in air and exhaled slowly. "Bear mount." The command came with abrupt sharpness and the massive dog needed no second bidding. He reared up and grasped Ruby around the waist with bone crushing force so that the breath was punched out of her in a low whine. There was no gentleness in Bear's rutting as his cock, a broad, angry, red and veined spear was plunged over and over against Ruby's flesh leaving a brand of pre-cum and bruises blossoming under the skin. Bear panted and growled in frustration as his cock slid up Ruby's crack. Derek stood by her head and watched Ruby's face, her eyes flying wide as the pointed head of Bear's cock found it's mark . For a brief moment they were all still, suspended in anticipation and then the muscles in Bear's thighs bunched and he surged forward burying himself into Ruby in one vicious, uncontrolled thrust, the bitch's back arched. His balls bounced off her ass and furred thighs pressed against her silky skin. Ruby let out a muffled yelp and slid a couple of inches along the bench as Bear draped himself over her back and really began to move, saliva drooling onto Ruby's shoulder. This was the moment Derek had been waiting for, he grasped his cock and slapped Ruby across the cheek with it. "Lick it bitch, make me wet." He rasped, his voice warped with lust. Ruby's tongue curled around and over as she slurped and licked at Derek's hard dick, swiping with the broadest part of her tongue and pressing it against the thick, throbbing veins and over the wide crown. Low whines of pleasured pain were punched out of her as Bear plunged rapidly in and out, in and out, over and over at a blistering pace, hopping from one back foot to the other in an erotic tap dance. His cock swelled and dragged against her sensitive walls, each twist and flex, each nuance an echoing sensation laying siege to her body and making her flesh quake. Suddenly Derek was gone from in front of her and Bear's swollen knot caught on her rim as he pushed it in and wrenched it out, she let out a muffled cry as the dog pushed in again, the grotesquely swollen knot of flesh stretching her rectum obscenely and cock moving in her belly. Bear ground down, his cock grinding against her insides and making Ruby flush with heat and light up like the fourth of July, her body shook with pleasure . She lifted her ass an inch and tried to push back as Bear's release flooded her insides in hot, frantic spurts, each feeling like another thrust. Dog and bitch panted raggedly for breath and sucked in air. Behind Bear, Derek knelt and lifted his tail, the dog turned his head and saw his Alpha, glistening cock in hand and whined in anticipation. It wouldn't be the first time Derek fucked Bear, it wouldn't even be the first time he'd done it while Bear was buried and knotted inside a bitch. They had the dynamics of a werewolf pack and as Alpha, Derek got to fuck who he pleased, it was his right and a matter of dominance and bonding. It kept Bear in his place, reminded him who was top dog, Derek fucked him and they both fucked the bitch and anyway he enjoyed it. Bear curled his tail to the side in invitation and rest his chin on Ruby's back. Derek traced Bear's flexing pucker with the thick , blunt head of his cock and then pushed inside an inch. Bear yelped and then relaxed and Derek began to rock, pushing his cock further in as he came forward and curling his hands around Bear's furred thighs. Compared to Bear's plunge into Ruby, Derek's was slow as he fed his cock into Bear. It was for pleasure not punishment and although he was asserting dominance, it wasn't Derek's intention to hurt or distress the dog. Derek rocked back and forth his thrusts getting stronger, quicker and going deeper until Bear was taking him all, Derek's balls bouncing off Bear's. The Alpha closed his eyes and head tipped forward as he savored Bear's hot channel, several degrees higher than Ruby's, tight and plush, muscles rippling rhythmically along his length as the dog ground down and pumped seed into the bitch. Derek hissed, growled a low sound of dominance rumbling from his chest and vibrating through his body into Bear and Ruby below, his fingers tightened on the dog's thighs as he gave in to feral need and ferocious lust, the muscles in his buttocks bunching and abdomen hardening before each powerful thrust. Punch in and glide out , punch in and glide out, over and over. Bear whined as he felt the Alpha's cock swell, filling his channel and stretching muscle tight, the blunt crown pummeling the dog's insides and sending bolts of pleasure ricocheting from nerve ending to nerve ending, their heavy pants, ragged breathing, low whines , moans of pleasure punctuated by the groan of wood and creak of leather filling the quiet of the room. Derek controlled everything setting a fierce pace, plowing into Bear and the dog grinding down into Ruby. Bear rapidly hopped from backfoot to backfoot again as he felt the start of Derek's knot drag against his rim. Derek didn't always breed him like a bitch, tying him with his knot and filling his stomach with his seed until it distended, overflowed and dribbled out of his ass. Most often Derek did this in wolf form, the great creature dwarfing even Bear in size so that he hung off his cock the Alpha's jaws around his neck, reveling in feeling helpless, small and vulnerable. Derek pushed his knot through Bear's rim feeling the dog's muscles contract and clamp down with each renewed spurt and grind into Ruby. His knot was squeezed as if by a hand in velvet glove, he ground into Bear's ass and Bear ground into Ruby. Derek felt his muscles tense and lightning forked down his spine and went to earth in his balls. He gave a triumphant growl as his release spurted from his cock and painted Bear's insides, each new contraction of Bear's muscles and Derek's knot was embraced by the most intimate of caresses and milked dry. Derek drew out Bear's release, Bear milked his knot and Ruby, red faced, skin misted with sweat, eyes heavy and glazed, shuddered and gasped for breath, swamped by sensation and almost unconscious from over stimulation, painful pleasure and an intoxication of sensation. For several more minutes Bear continued to come and then slumped spent over Ruby's back while Derek still emptied into him in violent spurts. After ten minutes Bear's knot deflated enough that he was able to pull free of Ruby and Derek helped him slide off her back and stand diagonally to her in a rocking horse pose, Derek wasn't finished with him. Derek pulled Bear back onto his cock and ground deep with a twist and flex of his hips. Bear was pushed onto his elbows, ass angled in the air and Derek seemed to slide even deeper his hands curling around the dog's thighs. The dog's tongue lolled, he wore a stupid, blissful expression and he heaved great pants. Derek reached for the dog's thick cock, red and glistening hanging from his chubby sheath and he wrapped his fingers around it and began to tug and stroke rapidly. Bears hips began to thrust, jack rabbiting into Derek's fist his knot swelling. Derek shifted his hold so that Bear knotted his fist and secure in his hold Derek squeezed and released the hard gnarl of erectile tissue pulsing against his palm. Bear came hard, ropes of seed spurting erratically from his cock, not as much as before but it rolled on and on, his channel clamped down so hard on Derek's knot that the Alpha hissed and bucked forward with a snarl and flooded Bear's channel with his seed so that it overflowed and dribbled out beside his still pulsing cock... ***** Out With The Old ***** Chapter Notes Warnings: Bestiality, Enema/Douche, Implied Prostitution Derek and Bear lay leveled and entwined on the padded floor of the breeding room, the dog attached to Derek by his Alpha's cock and the knot of hard flesh buried in his spasming channel. Derek dragged his fingers through Bear's rough fur and the dog's tail thumped lazily against the floor with a rhythmic thud. Derek continued to grind and empty into the dog with the occasional hard spurt of cum, particularly when he stroked the dog's spent cock and made Bear's muscles tighten on his knot. Derek crooned words of praise and glanced across at Ruby collapsed and lax, laid on the bench. Bear moaned softly, his lush channel squeezing Derek and milking him dry. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable and made his insides ache, but he didn't move or struggle. After about fifteen minutes Derek was spent, although it was another twenty before his knot had deflated enough that he was able to pull out of the dog and roll onto his back. He lay still for a few moments savoring the lethargy and contentment that washed over him while Bear twisted his head around, raised his leg and swiped his tongue over his tender and gaping hole. Derek levered into a sitting position and swiped a hand against his rough stubble and rose fluidly to his feet, smiling wryly when he wobbled a little and righted himself. He padded across to where Ruby lay slumped against the cushioned leather of the breeding bench and inspected her hole, his hand resting in the small of her back above the soft swell of her ass. Deaton's shots into the muscle of the anus worked wonders, the rim was much more pliable, elastic and the rosebud entrance to her body had already furled shut even after having Bear's impressive knot grinding into her and she was already tight and inviting for her next fuck. Derek hated slack holes. Derek patted her ass. "Good bitch." He said silkily and she whined softly raising her head as much as she was able. Derek unfastened the ankle cuffs and then moved to Ruby's head, ruffled her red hair roughly and unfastened the wrist cuffs from the legs of the bench. He helped her slide off the bench to stand unsteadily on all fours, Bear watched with mild interest from his recumbent position. Ruby looked up at Derek her eyes glassy and heavy lidded, her cheeks still heated, her freckles standing out against rosy skin. Her face glistened with perspiration and sweat sodden strands of hair were plastered to her forehead. Derek reached out a hand and flicked the strands from her brow noting the debauched, well fucked look and somewhat stupid, vacant expression with satisfaction. She smelt of sweat, sex and exhaustion. Derek didn't bother to dress, there was no-one to see his nakedness and even if there was, he didn't care, born and raised a werewolf nakedness and modesty were not an issue and certainly not a cause for embarrassment, he left that to humans. He bent and swiped up his clothes and balled them in his fist and left the breeding room and headed toward the compact bathroom, Ruby and Bear following in his wake. The bathroom is nothing fancy, white tiled walls and black and white tiled floor, much the same as Ruby's kennel. There was a white suite, a tub with oversized drainage , basin and toilet. A cupboard beneath the sink held clean towels and another cupboard above held bathing and medical supplies and a wicker laundry basket in the corner. There was a glass shelf on the wall over the bath held more supplies and a shower low on the wall with long flexible hose and a bivalve that allowed water to be diverted to the enema kit, the aluminum tube was six feet long and kept curled up on the wall, the interchangeable silicone and aluminum tips kept on the glass shelf. Ruby followed Derek inside as he tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and Bear flopped down in the doorway with his head on his paws to watch the proceedings. Derek grasped Ruby by the back of her red harness and swung her effortlessly into the tub onto the pink, thick rubber mat in the bottom. She waited patiently as Derek opened the cupboard above the sink and took out the PVC douche and enema flush bulb in the obligatory pink with a slender white tip, 4.5 inches in length, slightly curved, slick, flexible and with side and end holes for better cleansing. Derek unscrewed the bulb and plucked the bottle of mildly medicated douche from the cupboard, the amber liquid was made up to Deaton's specifications and the antibiotic it contained designed to keep the bitch's channel and colon clean, healthy and free from infection. Derek carefully measured out a dose of the douche and completed filling the bulb with luke warm water, about 10oz of liquid in all and screwed the bulb back onto the tip. Ruby saw the bulb and knew the discomfort that was coming, gave a resigned sigh and dropped her head to await the inevitable. Derek turned his attention to the bitch in the bath and placed a hand in the small of her back, more to ensure compliance than to offer comfort and when she whined his voice had an edge of roughness. "That's enough of that, this is for your own good." Derek beliveved in cleaning the bitch out with the douche three or four times a week and especially after being fucked by the dog. Werewolves produced between five and eight times more semen than humans and with a faster recovery time and an Alpha's active libido the bitch was filled often and the dog produced watery semen with a lot of prostatic fluid. The douche cleaned out the spunk, ensured good health and made for a better experience for him, besides which he enjoyed doing it and it was another way of showing the bitch he had control over her body. He screwed the white, flexible end of the bulb into her puckered anus, thanks to Deaton's shots it went in easily enough with little resistance and he pushed it in about four inches before squeezing the liquid from the bulb. Ruby still whimpered as the tube was pushed into her hole . "Hush." Derek quieted her and Ruby felt the warm liquid gush from the bulb and into her body. It was uncomfortable rather than painful and there wasn't enough liquid to more than distend her stomach a little and make it ache dully, but she knew it would be plugged inside her and left to do its work throughout the rest of her bath and sure enough Derek carefully withdrew the end of the douche with a stern warning . "Hold the medicine inside, don't let go." Ruby did as she was told and held the liquid inside her, clenching her buttocks until Derek took a pink, medium sized silicone butt plug from the glass shelf above the bath and pressed the cone shaped plug into her anus, trapping the medication inside. Derek disposed of the bulb by dropping it into the sink and set about adjusting the water of the shower to a reasonable heat and then drenched Ruby all over with the warm spray, ignoring her wriggles of discomfort. He lathered up his hands using the creamy shower milk with added oils and honey to protect and nourish the bitch's delicate skin. He used broad, sweeping strokes to cover her skin, unhurried and thorough, tutting udner his breath at the sight of thin red tracks scored into her sides, hips and buttocks by Bear's claws. Derek made a mental note to cut back he dog's claws or perhaps invest in a pair of leather booties for the dog to wear when he fucked the bitch. Bear wouldn't like the idea but Derek wasn't really concerned. The marks would be gone long before Alpha Tanner came to collect Ruby which was just as well, Alpha didn't like marks on their bitches unless they inflicted them. Derek's hand glided over Ruby's smooth, wet skin and she unconsciously leaned into his touch and when Derek moved on to washing her hair she closed her eyes in contentment and savored his firm, efficient touch. It was over to soon for Ruby and Derek was using the spray to rinse way the soap and shampoo. Derek dropped the rose head of the shower into the bath and lost no time in working the plug out of Ruby's ass and it's removal was accompanied by a gush of amber, medicated liquid from her anus that splashed against the white porcelain and swirled away down the drain, but Derek wasn't finished. He lifted the enema tube from the wall and took the thin aluminum nozzle from the shelf and screwed on to the end and then diverted the water from the shower into the enema tube and adjusted the heat, letting the water run over his wrist. When he was satisfied with the temperature, Derek rudely worked the nozzle into Ruby's ass. She moaned as she felt the rush of warm water flooding her insides. "Hush." Derek dropped one hand and stroked her stomach feeling the gush of liquid distending it. Ruby moaned, she didn't like enemas, but she held her position as she had been taught. She sucked in a breath trying her hardest not to wriggle as the water pushed into her body and the pressure built and her stomach bloated. Derek murmured close to her ear. "Nearly there." And caressed her stomach in an unaccustomed show of tenderness. It was more than merely uncomfortable now, her insides distended, heavy, stretched and filled by the water, the once dull ache becoming acute. Ruby's breath came in choppy pants and Derek felt the tension of her stomach. "Removing the nozzle now. Don't release until I tell you." Ruby gritted her teeth and concentrated on tightening her ring as Derek worked the nozzle free of her body. "Hold it as long as you can, there's a good bitch." Ruby preened under Derek's praise as he diverted the water back to the showerhead and hung the enema tube back on the wall. "Release." Ruby surrendered and relaxed her rim with a pained moan and the water,what was left of Bear's spunk and the medicine gushed from her, drenching her ass and thighs and swirled away down the drain. When the rush had dwindled to a trickle and almost stopped Derek turned the shower on her and she was bathed in a cascade of soothing, warm water that made her relax, feel floaty and peaceful. Derek lifted Ruby from the bath by the back of her harness and dried her thoroughly using two towels from the cupboard under the sink and being particular about scrubbing her hair as dry as possible. It was comfortably warm in the bitch block and Ruby didn't need clothes to keep warm. All the same Derek was careful, compared to werewolves humans were inclined to be delicate and seemed to get sick just to be contrary and this close to getting paid for his work, he was taking no chances. He tossed the towels casually into the laundry basket and then strode out of the bathroom, stepping over Bear laid across the threshold. The big dog pushed to his feet and fell into step with Ruby as they followed after Derek. Derek walked past a couple of rooms on he right whose doors were closed and headed toward the kitchen area. "Ruby go to your kennel." He tossed the command nonchalantly over his shoulder without bothering to turn around confident that the bitch would obey him and she veered left and went back through the open door of her kennel and sat expectantly on her haunches just inside the door, eyes glued to where Derek and Bear disappeared into the kitchen. Derek wasted no time in getting Ruby's stainless steel bowl from the cupboard and filled it with two plastic scoops full of food from the airtight plastic bin where it was kept, the food smelt a great deal more appetizing than it looked. Semi moist brown cubes with colorful pieces of cracker mixed in. It was supposed to represent meat and vegetables and was marketed as a wholesome, nutritious and complete diet for humans. It contained all the complex proteins, carbohydrates, fibre, fat, vitamins, oils, minerals and whatnot they needed to ensure good health, vitality, control weight and maintain skin, bright eyes, brain function and shiny hair. Deaton had told Derek it was the best, easily digested and took no preparation. There was no need to feed anything else, so Derek didn't. It came in four delicious flavors, beef, chicken, pork and fish, to prevent boredom. Actually it tasted dull and bland with very little flavor, Derek had tried a mouthful and quickly spat it out, but it was better than the other foods on the market. A thick porridge that was messy and necessitated wiping the bitch's face every time they ate, which Derek wasn't prepared to do and a hard, brown pellet whose only merits seemed to be to be it was a complete food and kept teeth clean. It was high in fibre and fed dry, the bitches drank a lot of water, toilet breaks were a frequent chore. Today Ruby was having chicken and Derek tossed a couple of cubes to Bear who snatched them from the air, looked disgusted and dropped them on the floor. Derek shrugged, perhaps it tasted better to humans? Derek walked to the kennel, slotted the bowl into the wire holder fastened to the inside of the door, checked the water bottle and swung the door closed with soft click. He flicked on one row of the florescent lighting and left Ruby with her head buried in her bowl, eating. He'd come back in a few hours, let her out to relieve herself and lock up for the night, for now he needed a shower and then he had things to do and he and Bear left by the side door that led straight into the house. Derek fed Bear in the utility room putting a slab of raw venison from the fridge into a bowl not dissimilar to Ruby's and slotting it into the raised stainless steel feeding stand about a foot from the floor with the twin water bowl already full and in place. The stand was designed to ease Bear's feeding and drinking and help prevent the giant dog from getting bloat. Bear had a rectangular dog bed in the utility room too, he slept in the house occasionally, especially when Derek was between bitches and appreciated his silent, unobtrusive company. Derek left Bear eating and mounted the sweeping staircase to the second floor and went along the hall to the master bedroom. The bedroom was cavernous, dominated by a huge bed that could comfortably hold four adults Derek's size, had multiple pillows, sheets and a thick comforter folded halfway down the bed and covered in an exquisite pale, silk brocade with a gold thread. The sheets and pillowcases were a bright, white linen. The fame of the bed was a dark, heavy oak with integral, intricately carved head and foot boards depicting wild animals on the headboard and foliage on the footboard. Like the rest of the house the room was sparsely furnished in expensive, functional furniture, oak nightstands with drawers and set with swan necked lamps with Tiffany shades, and a leather bound first edition of 'Frankenstein -A Modern Prometheus' by Mary Shelley on the right. A long, low oak dressing table without a mirror and long and short drawers, a comfortable chair and an armoire pushed into one corner, the twin of the one in the breeding room and a full-length, free standing oval cheval mirror in the other. There were no shelves, pictures, photos or knickknacks anywhere, only a large flat panel TV mounted on the wall opposite the foot of the bed, the remote control on the left hand nightstand along with a clock with red LCD numerals. There was a large walk in closet with a sliding door. The floor was the same polished mahogany as the rest of the house save the gray slate tiles in the kitchen and utility room and tiles in the wet room and covered with thickly piled, luxurious rugs in vibrant designs. Derek stopped briefly in the bedroom to toe off his boots and tug off his socks, leaving them where they landed he padded naked and barefoot into the bathroom. The wet room was impressive and luxurious by any standards and one of Derek's favorite rooms. The tiles on the walls were an off white, thinly veined with a smokey gray thread, giving the impression of expensive marble, the color reversed in the larger tiles on the floor. The vanity unit held two white basins, his uncle Peter had joked Derek needed one for each hand, a cupboard beneath for towels and bathing supplies and a mirrored cabinet above holding Derek's saving gear, tooth brush, toothpaste and a clear plastic bathroom glass. Derek was blessed with more than his fair share of testosterone, even for an Alpha and his beard grew quickly, if he shaved completely in the morning he had a thick growth of stubble by mid afternoon so he left his jaw covered in short, dark stubble and just trimmed it. The shower was chrome , four multi directional power heads directed the spray and glass shelves on the wall held plethora of shampoos, conditioners, body washes, shower milk and body and hair combinations, most non perfumed, or naturally perfumed. The bath was white, oval shaped and free standing on lion pawed feet. It had a soothing whirlpool option and glass corner shelf held bathing supplies similar to those of the shower. The toilet had a seat and lid in white with the same gray thread as the wall tiles. A heated towel rail, white ceiling, recessed lighting and a wicker laundry basket in the farthest corner, finished the room. Derek turned on the water, adjusted it to just this side of too hot, stepped under the sprays and leaned for a while with his flat palms on the tile and hissed as the hot water peppered his skin and ran in rivulets over his tightly muscled body, relaxing tension and washing away the smell of sweat and sex down the drains. He used a combination body and hair shampoo to save time, squeezing a generous amount into his palm and then returning the bottle to the shelf before he rubbed this hands together into a rich lather. Derek soaped his hair and chest his hands roaming over his outrageously ripped body with brisk efficiency, his thick biceps flexing as he moved to his washboard abs and pectorals clenching a he lifted his hands to scrub at his hair. He turned his attention to his cock, stroking the long, thick flesh and rolling his balls in a soaped hand. He soaped his thighs, buttocks and legs and lifted each foot in turn and then rinsed off thoroughly under the hot sprays. When he finished Derek turned off the water and emerged in a fog of steam from under the sprays. He dried using towels from the heated rail, rubbing at his hair and tossing the used towels into the wicker basket and then cleaning his teeth. Satisfied he was pristine, Derek finger combed his hair and padded into the bedroom and scooped up his boots and socks, threw his socks in the laundry and dropped his boots onto the shoe rack in the closet and retrieved a pair of blue jeans from the hangar, a dark plum Henley from the neatly folded pile on the shelf and a pair of sneakers from the rack and dressed in the bedroom. He went commando, shimmied into the jeans and tugged the Henley over his head and smoothed it down his torso, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows and leaving the neck buttons undone. He sat on he bed and stamped his feet into his black sneakers and laced them up, he didn't bother with socks. Comfortable and relaxed took the stairs two at a time and went downstairs and swung by the kitchen and took a can of beer from the fridge . He wasn't a big drinker, a single beer at the end of the day, a glass of spirits on special occasions and an infrequent bottle of wine with a special meal. The werewolf community laced their alcohol lightly with wolfs bane and it was possible to get drunk. Derek hadn't been drunk since he was eighteen and hated that feeling of not being in control of himself and his surroundings. Derek popped the tab on his can as he walked through the spacious living area and into the home office, the same place as he had talked to Deucalion. Like the rest of the house the home office was larger than average dominated by Derek's oak desk with a black, executive swivel chair behind and a green, leather high backed chair in front. One wall displayed the only photos apparent in the house, of Derek's various bitches and the desk was set with a top-of- the-range wide screen laptop, marketed as a desktop replacement a tablet, pen holder and a contemporary desk lamp. There was a narrow floor to ceiling bookshelf against one wall and beside it a three drawer, wooden filing cabinet and a smokey glass fronted cabinet, holding Derek's own server and surmounted with a color laser printer, against another wall and french windows behind Derek's chair led straight out onto lawn. Each night the laptop backed up to the server and to another external server housed in his uncle's house several miles away in case of fire or some other disaster. Everything was wireless and protected by the werewolves own Wolf Pack security system against hacking, viruses etc. Derek dropped into his chair, noting that it had grown dark outside and placed the can on the shiny surface of the desk, condensation rolled down the side of the chill can and pooled on the wood. Derek logged onto his computer and transferred all the information from the tablet to the laptop and then opened the file that held a template of a standard contract to email to Deucalion, filling in the specifics and setting the price for his services at $225,000 and estimated time for delivery at 6 - 9 months. He added the contract as an attachment to a brief note and committed it to cyberspace. He picked up the can of beer and took a long pull before setting it down . Next Derek accessed his bank accounts to see if Alpha Tanner had deposited the $60,000 for Ruby and a ghost of a smile appeared around his mouth when he saw it was there. He quickly set about transferring $10,000 to Deaton's account for his services and when he'd covered expenses, there would be a cool profit in the region of $35,000, not bad for six week's not very had work. Ruby had been an easy commission and not hard to train, the most difficult aspect had been in finding a suitable boy in the first place, he didn't expect any difficulty on that score with Deucalion's. Young, slender, dark haired and eyed boys were easy enough to come by, but he expected a greater challenge in the training especially given the extensive degree of modification the blond Alpha wanted. Derek felt a vague thrill spiral through is body at the prospect of a new bitch and he was ready for a challenge. He didn't get attached to the bitches he trained, ambivalent about humans per-se he took care of them while he had them and once they were gone, tended to forget about them. He never considered them his and what happened to them once they left him was fate. Most bitches stayed with their Alpha for twelve to fifteen years, led reasonable lives and then were replaced with younger ones, humans aged so quickly and tended to lose their looks and appeal. There was a robust secondhand market in the sale to brothels and Alpha sex clubs where they weren't so fussy about age and looks. A few were sold to less wealthy or picky Alphas and fewer still were kept into old age by the Alpha who first bought them, but this was the exception not the rule. Alpha Tanner was a bear of an Alpha, bulky rather than muscled with a booming voice and jovial, mild mannered personality for an Alpha, Ruby would likely have a good life. Derek called up his list of contacts, humans who had access to boys aged between 11 - 15 and not the kind of humans he wanted to associate with, not that he wanted to associate with any save his bitches. They were a necessary evil of his chosen profession and certainly not friends or colleagues, barely acquaintances. They were pimps and Child Protection workers, one could pick up runaways from bus stations and the streets and the other get boys away from abusive, neglectful family and spirit them away into the bowels of the social care system where they would be lost. He chose three that were most reliable, two pimps and one protection worker and contacted them via the burner phone he kept in the drawer of his desk specifically for this purpose and changed monthly. Derek might be being paranoid, but he liked the protection and anonymity it gave him. The calls were brief, Derek didn't do small talk or chit chat, he was abrupt and to the point just relaying the description of the type of boy he was looking for. Each was confident that they would have a suitable boy for him within the next day or two, it wasn't a big ask. Derek finished his calls feeling as though he needed another shower. It would probably have been easy enough for him to obtain boys himself, but it was better this way. He hated going to the city with its stink and crush of heaving humanity and this way he kept visits to a minimum. The boys he got almost always had a history of neglect, physical and or sexual abuse, brushes with the law and a history of either drug or alcohol addiction, sometimes both and prostitution which helped with their transformations and families who didn't care or had given up on them. The boys wouldn't be missed, no-one was coming looking for them, not that it mattered, once swallowed up by the werewolf community they would never be seen again. He dropped the cell back into the drawer, closed it and then leaned back against he rear of the chair and raised his arms and stretched until his spine popped and rolled his head and then leaned forward and plucked up his beer can, reared back into his chair, tipped back his head and took several long pulls of beer. Derek drained and crushed the can in his fist and dropped it into a waste basket at his feet. He leaned forward, rest his elbows on the desk and decided to do some online shopping. It was more than an hour later that Derek checked out his basket at Drop Down and Howl an online sex toy and BDSM supplier run and favored by werewolves. He had replaced the items Ruby would take with her, her harness, pink collar, douche and enema bulb, mitts, booties, butt plugs and bone-shaped gag. He had spent time browsing various departments replacing and updating equipment he already had, most notably a fucking machine and shock collar. He'd enjoyed himself and spent far more than he intended, but he shrugged nonchalantly as he checked out through the returning customer portal, entered bank card details and chose next working day delivery.   The next morning Derek loaded Ruby into the cage in the back of the SUV and they drove to their last appointment with Dr Deaton, his clinic was situated in a quiet area of the town. She was given a clean bill of health and Deaton issued the health certificate that would be given to Alpha Tanner and updated her medical records. Her tracking chip in her shoulder was checked and working and the 12mm microchip that would forever identify her, inserted beneath the surface of her skin between the shoulder blades. The process was similar to a routine shot, but the needle of necessity much bigger and it was not without pain. Derek filled out all the registration forms with Alpha Tanner's details and then they left. The afternoon was spent running through all Ruby's training and Derek fucked her one last time and then Bear had his turn. That evening Derek went out to dinner with his uncle. Early the following morning Alpha Tanner picked up Ruby and loaded her into a cage in the back of his SUV and thanked Derek for all his hard work. Derek made a parcel of all the items she was taking except of course her pink collar and harness which she was wearing. He handed over the health certificate and an E- reader pre-loaded with her medical records, training specifics, care tips and dietary advice, some Alpha didn't like the inference that they didn't know how to care for their bitch, but Tanner seemed grateful. Ruby left without a backward glance at Derek and only confirmed what he already knew, humans were disloyal, faithless creatures. The afternoon was busy, spent cleaning out the kennel and all the training equipment and making preparations for the new bitch. The items Derek had ordered online arrived and he unpacked them and put them ready for use. He went in the home office, made himself comfortable with can of beer and read the instruction books with the new fucking machine and shock collar from cover to cover. He'd just finished his beer and was leaning back in his chair, lax and relaxed watching the mid afternoon sun slant across the floor and up the wall, when his ears picked up the muffled ring of the burner phone in the desk drawer. Derek quickly retrieved it and pressed it to his ear. "Hale." "Hi Mr Aitch, it's Leon." At recognition of the pimp's whiny voice Derek leant into his elbows on his desk. "Yes." "I think I have a suitable boy for you." "Specifics." " I picked him up last week at the bus station, a runway, fourteen, brunette, five nine, ten, slight build, eyes the color of Jack Daniel's Sour Mash, pretty but not too feminine, good ass and mouth." On the face of it the boy sounded what Derek was looking for. "I need to see him." "No problem Sir, when?" Derek glanced at his watch, 3.35 plenty of time for him to get ready and drive the 100 or so miles to the city. "Tonight." He didn't want to waste any time, especially if the boy didn't fit the bill. "Nine O'clock, I'll meet you at the usual place, make sure the boy is there and don't be late." "We'll be there, bring the cash." "Don't tell me what to do Leon," Derek's voice hardened ruthlessly with a growl, "you'll get the money if I like the boy." Derek picked up on the surge in Leon's heartbeat. The pimp whined and an oily tone crept into his voice. "Sorry Mr Aitch I didn't mean no disrespect." Derek grunted. "I've got a dealer breathing down my neck and I need the money." Derek gave a disgusted snort. "Your problems are nothing to do with me and I don't want to hear about them. " He bit out. "Just make sure your there, don't make me have to come looking for you Leon." Derek said, a threat inherent in his chilled tone. Derek didn't give Leon time to respond and ended the call. He grazed the burner phone against his bottom lip lost in thought, what was the boy like? He'd find out soon enough... ***** In With The New ***** Chapter Notes Warnings: Prostitution Implied, Non-Con Drug Administration, Needles, Kidnapping, Non-Con Intimate Touching. Derek had a routine for going to the city to inspect or pick up boys, it involved muting his Satanic good looks and serial killer vibe. It was far easier to persuade a boy to get into his car of their own free will, than it was to bundle someone struggling and screaming off the street, once in the car they were at Derek's mercy. Derek was all for unobtrusive simplicity. He opened the drawer of his desk and dropped his cell inside and shut it, then pushed up out of his chair and stretched like a lazy dog. He ambled toward the stairs to get ready for his performance, his body humming with low level anticipation. The first thing Derek did was stroll into the bathroom and take a shave, removing all his dark stubble and revealing a small cleft in his lean, square jaw. He quickly skimmed out of the jeans and wife beater he was wearing and tossed them into the laundry basket, contemplated a shower and decided it wasn't necessary. In the bedroom he pulled items of clothing from the closet and a pair of tan loafers. The dockers were a light khaki and loose fitting, not Derek's preferred style of pants at all and the shirt a nondescript, plain white cotton blend which he left unfastened at the neck. Derek wasn't wearing a tie unless he absolutelyhad to. He threaded a narrow, brown belt through the loops of his dockers around his slender waist and buckled up. Sitting on the end of the bed he pushed his feet into the loafers, their feel foreign to him compared to the light boots or sneakers he usually wore. Derek gazed at his reflection in the cheval mirror and combed his hair using a little product to give himself a side parting and persuading his black hair to lie across his head rather than his usual swept back style. He completed his transformation with a pair of dark rimmed spectacles with clear glass in place of lenses, they framed his compelling green eyes and helped disguise his wide masculine brows. He finished his new look by plucking a Dean jacket from the bed and shrugging it on, the cotton fabric the same khaki as his pants, a couple of side pockets, a heavy brass zip and tab collar. Derek looked at himself critically in the mirror and adjusted his spectacles. The man whose reflection stared back at him from the mirror, seemed alien. His muscular build was disguised by the loose fitting clothes, gone was the serial killer vibe to be replaced by something softer more befitting an office worker or middle management, Clark Kent rather than his alter ego. Derek looked younger, his face gentled by the spectacles and more studious even nerdy, certainly not threatening. Satisfied he'd achieved what he intended, Derek glanced at his watch and moved on. He plucked a set of car keys from the dressing table and bounded down the stairs two at a time, beginning to feel the spiral of excitement he always felt at the prospect of a new canvas on which to work his magic. He went straight to the home office and swung the bookcase from the wall, the safe was situated about halfway up in the wall behind. It was electronic and worked though a keypad and biometric retinal recongnition scanner. Derek keyed in the number and then stared into the small, rectangular scanner, a red beam crossed his eye and the safe unlocked with a soft hiss. The money was already counted out into one thousand dollar bundles and he took out five and placed them into a spacious inside pocket of his jacket and left the rest of the money untouched. He closed the safe and pushed back the bookcase. He went through the house quickly and into the bitch bock and wasted no time going to one of the doors which he normally kept closed, opening and passing through it. Behind the door lay a large, fully functional medical room, an examination table as well as a gurney and hydraulic medical chair and a gyn table all fitted with restraints and a Jacuzzi in the corner with suspension overhead for hydro- therapy. The instrument table, shelves and glass fronted cupboards filled with medical instruments, drugs, syringes and needles of various sizes, medical dressings, salves, medicines, potions, pills, ointments as well as an autoclave for sterilization of equipment on the counter, dilators, speculums and other fun toys. There was a sink, padded stool and rolling stand with a large, adjustable, mobile LCD medical examination light and a door in the wall gave access directly into the single bed hospital room. He crossed quickly to one of the glass fronted cupboards on the wall above the counter and took out a couple of round, squat, glass bottles containing a sedative, two syringes and fine gauge needles. Derek assembled the syringes and picked up a bottle, turned it upside down, pierced the top with the fine needle and drew the sedative down into the syringe and repeated the same process with the other. Concocted by Deaton, the sedative was profoundly and quick acting, long-lasting without the reversal drug... Its safety was within acceptable limits. Derek squirted a little sedative from each syringe to get rid of any air and capped the needles off and lay them lengthwise in an oblong case and pushed it into the inner pocket of his jacket, the opposite one to the one the money was in and he was ready to go. Derek left the block by the side door that led straight outside but he didn't head toward the garage, instead he strode with a loose gait around to a piece of hard standing at the rear of the house and took the cover off a car standing there. The car uncovered was a 2013 Ford Focus sedan, an unremarkable basic model in white with tinted windows. Derek only used the car to go to the city, it fitted with his assumed persona far better than the sleek, black Camaro of even the Mercedes SUV. He unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel, a few minutes later Derek was driving away from the house in the early evening sunshine. Derek's house was situated in the country suburbs of Wolf Creek a major werewolf town some twenty minutes in one direction and his nearest neighbor his uncle Peter, owned Hale Kennels, Breeding and Boarding ten minutes the other. There was no-one to bother him and Derek enjoyed the self imposed seclusion and visited the town and his uncle as and when the mood struck him. The road from the house twisted and turned, meandered through thickly wooded countryside, the arms of the trees frequently extending over the road and providing nature's vaulted ceiling. Several miles on, the countryside opened out into verdant fields, shrubs, bushes and small woodland copses and thorny hedgerows before giving way to the roaring traffic on a six lane highway that led directly to the city just over a hundred miles distant. The city was the only serious concentration of human existence for two hundred miles or so. Derek hit the access ramp and accelerated steadily checking his mirrors and merged seamlessly into the nearest lane and settled back, driving toward the city at a steady 70. It was about an hour before Derek hit the boarder of werewolf held and administered territory, it wasn't a physical boarder but Derek felt a tremor pass through his body as he crossed it. It was dark by the time Derek reached the outskirts of the city, he'd already turned on his headlights and progress slowed as he hit traffic and began to drive downtown. Despite his infrequent visits Derek knew the city well, was familiar with it's layout and hated the place. It was hard for him to breathe, the air was thick and congested with the stink and detritus of humanity. Humans milled, pushed and crowded like herds of cattle, space was at a premium. What others saw as sharp and edgy, dazzling bright lights everywhere, food carts on street corners steaming and emitting a fusion of delicious aromas, his wolf saw as a confusion of color, cacophony of sound and a sensory overload of pungent smells. Derek drove until he reached the seedy area of downtown he sought. He knew he'd arrived from the cracked, uneven sidewalks, the garbage cans, the kaleidoscope of gaudy neon lights of the clubs and strip joints that both offended and hurt his eyes, the grim tenements, narrow, dark, garbage strewn alleys, cheap hotels that rented rooms by the hour and run down houses. Restaurants rubbed shoulders with tattoo and massage parlors, grim take out joints and dumpster's. It never ceased to amaze Derek that some werewolves actually lived in the city, but they did and thrived there. They were an active part, along with other preternatural creatures of the fetid underbelly; drugs, prostitution, gambling, human trafficking, extortion, murder, slavery and protection. On every corner flamboyant rent boys and hookers gathered, working and jealously guarding their pitches, a lot of them well below the age of consent and freely keeping company with pimps and drug dealers. Derek reached the designated meeting place and pulled into the curb just beyond the orange, shadowless glow of a streetlight slanting across the sidewalk and parked up, turning off his lights. A fishy piece of moon scuttled behind the buildings and across the street another lamp pushed at the gloom of the sad, gray city. A small knot of rent boys and hookers gathered in the light from the lamp or walked up and down blatantly displaying their bodies. Derek glanced at his watch 8.46, fourteen minutes before Leon was supposed to arrive with the boy. Derek unfastened his seatbelt and settled back to wait, his fingers drumming idly on the steering wheel displaying his mounting impatience. Suppose the boy was here already? one of those under the streetlight across the street. Derek's eyes narrowed behind the clear glass of his spectacles and he looked critically at each boy in turn, dismissing out- of- hand those who weren't brunettes or looked too old. There were a couple of boys left, both dark haired and one taller than the other. The shorter boy had a buzz cut, very slender, probably underweight and that wasn't unusual in these boys either through poor diet or drugs. Every few minutes a car slowed by the group and stopped. One of the whores was gestured over and would push their heads inside a hastily lowered window and negotiations were held, either they concluded successfully or the car drove away amid jeers and cat calls. If they were successful the car parked up in a nearby alley for a blow or hand job, if something else were negotiated, they drove a short way down the street and parked in the lot of a dingy hotel with a flickering neon sign offering rooms to rent by the hour and the hooker or rent boy walked the short distance to the waiting John. No-one got into the cars. Twice cars stopped and gestured to buzz cut but he stayed where he was with a shake of his head and another boy took his place. Derek wondered at the boy's behavior, perhaps he was waiting for something or someone? He was so lost in thought watching the scene across the street that Derek actually started when a sharp rap came on the passenger window, he scowled, ducked his head and peered through the side window and saw that it was Leon. Somewhat irritated, Derek released the door and it was yanked open and the skinny pimp slid onto the seat in a fug of drugs and poor hygiene. It offended Derek's olfactory senses and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. The werewolf made a mental note to fumigate the car. "Evening Mr Aitch," Leon greeted Derek in the wheezing voice of a heavy smoker, "I'm dead on time." A sour grin split his thin face like a slash of a knife and a gold tooth flashed at Derek. The Alpha cast Leon a sideways glance. "What do you want, a fucking medal?" He asked with an impatient growl. "I know your a busy man." Leon wheedled picking up on Derek's impatient tone, his nervousness betrayed by his bouncing leg and the sour smell of underarm perspiration. "Where's the boy? "He's already here," Leon turned and gestured through the side window with his ring cluttered hand, "that's him sat on the wall." Derek followed Leon's gesture to the boy with the buzz cut who was sitting on a low wall swinging his legs and watching the whores strut their stuff, Derek was right he was waiting for someone, him. He squinted, assessing the boy from a distance and judging if it was worth his while taking a closer look. "You have two minutes to tell me his story." Derek's voice rumbled. "I picked him up at the bus station about ten days ago, "Leon's speech was rapid, words tripping over themselves in his haste, "said his name's something foreign, calls himself Stiles. A runaway, mom died when he was a kid, old man climbed into a bottle and hasn't climbed out since, no other relatives. His old man used him as a punch bag since he was nine, started pimping the kid's ass out to his friends for booze money about a year ago. Kid started to pocket some of the money from the John's, old man found out. Kid hid until his dad passed out in a drunken stupor, then he took what he could carry in a holdall, all the cash he could find and spilt. Bummed a lift, hopped a Greyhound and ended up here." Leon's eyes slithered sideways to Derek's face silhouetted in profile. "I put him up with a couple of my older boys to keep an eye on him, no-one's coming looking, don't worry about that." Derek snorted, he wasn't worried. "Age?" "Says he's sixteen but I don't peg him for a day over fourteen." Leon replied watching Derek's mouth shift into a moue of thought. "Cute looking, big eyes and pale skin," he encouraged, "bit mouthy but I figured you wouldn't mind that." A ghost of a smile played around Derek's mouth, no he wouldn't mind that at all. "Is he clean, any disease?" He'd soon break the boy of any addiction and disease couldn't be passed on to a werewolf, but it took time and treatment for something like AIDS was expensive and not worth the bother. "His test came back clear and he's clean." A week or two more and Derek knew Leon would have him hooked on drugs. He thought for a moment and then shifted in his seat. "I'll take a look at him." Leon let out the breath he'd been holding, he really needed the money the boy would fetch. "If I think he'll suit my purpose, we'll bring him back to the car and you'll get your money. If not..." Derek shrugged dismissively. Leon's sharp, ratty features eased into a broad, slightly manic grin and he swiped his straight, light brown hair from his eyes. "You'll love him Mr Aitch , you'll see." He wheezed enthusiastically. Derek ignored the pimp, a poisonous, bloodless individual with poor personal hygiene and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the case containing the syringes. Leon fixed his black, currant eyes on the werewolf and watched as Derek lifted a syringe from the case and dropped it into the outer pocket of his jacket and then replaced the case. "Let's get this show on the road." Derek muttered raising his head... Seconds later Derek and Leon crossed the street. The whores saw them coming, Leon they recognized and dismissed, Derek they didn't. A red head caught a good look at Derek and preened visibly, pushing out her breasts and showing off her undeniably attractive body in a skirt that looked more like a belt. Derek cringed and adjusted his spectacles nervously with a quickly forced smile, it only encouraged her to try twice as hard and those near her to join in. Eyes raked the werewolf's body hungrily and smiles turned salacious, rent boys simpered and pushed their crotches out toward him and canted their hips. Hookers batted their eyelashes, sucked their fingers provocatively and pushed their ample and barely covered tits in his face. "Back off," Leon growled with a dark scowl and added, "he's not interested." When one whore tried to touch him, Derek's fake persona slipped and he gave her a glance so disdainfully dismissive, unimpressed and with eyes like flint that she recoiled and quickly stepped back her hand lifted to her throat. The rest muttered and grumbled under their breath as Leon glared at them and then turned to the boy on the wall. Stiles had watched Leon's approach with interest, he'd been told to come to his pitch and wait until the pimp arrived with a John. The guy was a valued customer and paid well to spend few hours with a slut like Stiles, but he had a couple of quirks, nothing to worry about. Leon called him over with an impatient gesture of his hand and Stiles hopped down from the wall and took his time strolling over, his youthful, impish face schooled into a look of boredom and sullen disinterest, hands pushed deeply into the pockets of his low slung jeans. Derek quietly assessed the boy from behind his spectacles as he approached and kept his arms folded loosely over his chest, shoulders rounded and slightly stooped to appear less intimidating. The boy's limbs were disproportionately long compared to his body, he was slender and yet his face still had the telltale roundness of youth and he was yet to grow a beard. Leon was right, nearer to fourteen than sixteen. He had a wary, cautious look about him, his heart rate was elevated and hands clammy. The boy had some self-preservation skills and intelligence shone in the depths of his sour mash colored eyes. He wouldn't be easily fooled into coming along with him. "Stiles," Leon's hand curled around the pale, creamy skin of the boy's forearm and he pulled him closer and dropped his voice, "this is the gentleman I told you about, say hello." "Hi." Stiles eyes strolled over Derek appreciatively. The guy was nice looking, handsome if he got rid of the nerdy spectacles and at least he was clean, wasn't middle aged with dirty fingernails, a beer belly and B.O. "Good evening Stiles," Derek kept his voice deliberately soft and low and smiled weakly, "good to meet you." He unfurled is arms and pushed out his right hand. Derek's hand was big, strong, with long elegantly broad fingers without the betrayal of lighter skin where a wedding band would be . For a moment Stiles eyes swept down and he stared at it as if it was a foreign object and he didn't know what to do with it. Derek waited admiring the way the boy's lids dropped over his eyes. At length Stiles pushed his smaller, slender hand into Derek's and the werewolf gripped lightly and they shook. The boy's shake was strong but his hand fragile compared to the Alpha, his fingers long and slim, artistic. Derek released his hold and Stiles hand fell to his side. "I hope we're going to be friends." Friends? Stiles blinked a him, was this guy for real? He wanted to fuck him and Stiles would likely let him for the right price, there was no friendship involved or necessary, it was a simple if sordid business transaction. "Yeah friends. Whatever." Stiles said with a hint of sarcasm. "Your going to go along to his place, spend a few hours and he'll see you get back here when your through." Leon instructed. Stiles eyes bounced between Leon and Derek and back. "No offense but I'd rather not go to his place." He murmured cautiously. Leon's fingers bit into Stiles arm and he stepped into his personal space until their chests brushed. "Listen to me slut," he hissed at him between clenched teeth and Stiles recoiled from his bad breath, "I don't give a fuck what you want, what don't you understand about our arrangement? You do as I say, go where and with anyone I tell you to." Stiles eyes slithered to Derek standing behind Leon and then to Leon's face and he whispered. "I don't know him, I don't know what he's going to do, I could get kil..." Leon's voice hardened ruthlessly. "I know him and that's all you need to know." "But.." Leon looked perilously close to back handing the boy when Derek's hand landed on the pimp's shoulder, he had of course heard every word. "I quite understand the young man's reticence in coming with me, he doesn't know me and I don't blame him for being wary, but seriously Stiles, do I look like a serial killer to you?" Derek made an open handed gesture to himself. "I'm quite harmless I assure you." He added mildly with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure you are," Stiles muttered hastily, his tone apologetic, "and it's not that I don't want to," his eyes flicked to Leon, "I'm not trying to be awkward but there's a hotel down the street, we could go there, the rooms aren't expensive." Derek's hand slid off Leon's shoulder. "I'm afraid that won't do." He said regretfully. "I have a mild case of OCD, I don't frequent hotels, public rest rooms or restaurants. One can never rely on their standards of cleanliness." Stiles could sympathize, that was certainly true of the hotel, it was the kind of place where you cleaned the sole of your shoes coming out. "Those are the quirks I told you about." Leon hissed in Stiles ear. "The guy's okay." Stiles cheeks flushed with heat. Derek's patience was growing thin, it was time to see if the boy would come with him or not. "If Stiles doesn't want to come with me I'm certainly not going to force the issue." Leon's eyes darted nervously over the few whores who were showing a mild interest in what was going on. "It's a great pity though," Derek gave a resigned sigh, "I like you Stiles and I think we'd have had a good time, maybe even become a regular item." He turned away. "Do you hear that?" Leon hissed tightening his grip. Stiles eyes flew to Derek. "Okay, okay," Leon eased his grip, "I suppose it'll be all right." Derek turned back and smiled. "Good, I really like you Stiles, I hope you'll like me." A scowl crossed Stiles face. "Is it far?" "Excuse me?" "To your apartment." Stiles prompted. "No not far," Derek answered with a decisive nod of his head, "but it's a house not an apartment." Stiles eyes widened, the guy must be loaded to own a house in the city. "My car's over there." Derek gestured vaguely across the street with his chin. Stiles gaze followed the gesture to the car parked just beyond the street lamp. "Okay, let's go." Once he'd made his mind up Stiles was eager to get on with it before his common sense kicked in.   Derek led the way over the road, Leon released Stiles arm and the boy fell into step beside Derek and Leon brought up the rear. "What do you want me to call you?" Stiles asked as they walked. "Derek, call me Derek." The werewolf had no problem telling Stiles his name, it wasn't as if he was going to be in position to tell anyone else. "Derek," the name rolled off Stiles tongue with mild skepticism. "It's my real name." Derek emphasized. "Whatever." Stiles replied off-handedly. Derek drew to a halt at the passenger side the white sedan. "Things will go much easier if you believe what I tell you." He said in a smooth, insistent voice. "Nice car." Stiles answered. Derek hid his smile, clearly the boy was going to be more of a challenge than Ruby had been. He pressed his key fob and the central locking released the doors with a click. "The door's unlocked," he prompted the boy, "get in." Stiles grasped the door handle and the door opened easily and he slid onto the passenger seat amid a flurry of arms and legs, Derek shut the door firmly behind him. The werewolf turned his back to the car and pulled the wad of notes from his inside pocket and pressed them into Leon's outstretched grasping hand. "Thirty pieces of silver." He muttered. Leon's brow creased. "Huh?" "Five thousand dollars." Derek clarified, clearly Leon and The Bible were strangers. "Thanks Mr Aitch." Leon stuffed the money into the pocket of his tatty jacket without counting it. "Great doing business with you." "Always a pleasure." Derek answered in a voice heavy with sarcasm. Leon pivoted to cross back over the street. "Good luck with him." He tossed casually over his shoulder as he jogged through a gap in the traffic. Derek watched the narrow shoulders of the pimp's retreating back with a frisson of irritation. He didn't believe in luck he achieved what he did through skill, attention to detail and sheer determination. Any luck he made himself. Derek pushed off from the car and circled around to the driver's door, opened it and slid gracefully behind the wheel and closed the door behind him. Stiles looked at him. "You took your time." Derek lifted his eyes. "I was paying Leon." He said truthfully. "Oh." Stiles fell silent for a moment. "Nice car." He commented at length and then gazed straight ahead. Derek reached into his pocket and flipped the top off the needle of the syringe with his thumb nail. "You should fasten your seatbelt." Stiles blinked at him. "Safety first." Derek added with a weak smile. Stiles rolled his eyes and reached across his body for the strap. This was the distraction Derek had been waiting for. "Let me help you." Derek leaned toward Stiles and clicked the strap into the holder securely and flicked the trigger that locked it in place, the boy was bound to the seat by the belt. The first Stiles knew anything was amiss was the sharp jab of the needle into his thigh. He yelped and looked down and saw the syringe in Derek's hand. His heart rate soared and a look of panic crossed his face. "What the fuck! Get away from me! " He pushed at Derek knocking the empty syringe from his hand to the foot well between his feet. "Keep away from me you fucker!" His voice shrill and piercing. Derek remained remarkably calm while the boy panicked and scrabbled at he belt trying to get it unfastened and when he couldn't he ignored Derek and tried to open first the door and then beat on the side window with his clenched fists. "Help! Leon help!" Stiles implored shrilly, beating frantically against the glass. Derek counted silently back from ten and watched the boy's efforts to escape grow weaker and weaker, by the time he reached four Stiles was silent and still hanging lax in the seatbelt. Derek reached down and scooped up the empty syringe and put it in the case beside the full one, he could just toss it from the window, but no sense in leaving evidence not that there was likely to be a crime reported. He cast a side glance at the boy, able to see him perfectly well in the dim interior of the car. He was more Derek's taste than Ruby had been and he had a smattering of dark moles littering his creamy skin. The werewolf wondered if they extended over the rest of his body, he guessed he's soon find out. Derek liked the moles, they intrigued him but Deucalion might not and he'd reject the boy, Derek hoped not it'd be a shame if he had to dispose of him, not to mention the five thousand, although he could find some way to add that to Deucalion's bill.   Driving out of the city was a great deal easier and quicker than driving in and soon Derek reached the outskirts and settled back to driving on the six lane highway. He shot the unconscious boy the odd look as he slumped in the seat, hanging limp and slack in the seat his head lolling and chin resting on his chest. Some thirty miles distant from the city they crossed the boarder into werewolf territory and unconsciously Derek relaxed, his grip on the wheel loosened and the tension left his shoulders and he drove on automatic pilot until the exit ramp which took him off the highway and onto the roads that led back to the house. Just under two hours later Derek rolled to a stop on the gravel outside the bitch block. He got out of the car and stretched his arms over his head and pulled his spine taut until the bones cracked. He rounded the hood and went to the external door and unlocked it keying in the number combination on the numerical pad and looking into the small screen for the retinal scan, just like the safe. The door released with a click and Derek pushed it open, Bear's booming bark sounding all the while from his kennel. He opened the car's passenger door and leaned in arching over Stiles body and releasing him from the seatbelt. Stiles didn't stir as Derek man handled him from the car, the werewolf stooped down and his strong arm curled around the back of the boy's thighs and he was thrown like a sack of potatoes over the Alpha's shoulder. Stiles head bounced against Derek's broad back and his arms dangled as he strode the few steps into the block and flicked on the fluorescent lights and back heeled the door shut. Inside Derek crossed to the open door of the kennel, carried Stiles inside and deposited him on the floor sliding him carefully from his shoulder. Derek tilted upright and gazed at the boy's recumbent body, stepping back to admire him. Derek removed his ridiculous spectacles and slipped them into his breast pocket. Under the light he was able to assess the boy better, better still when he had stripped him. He started at Stiles feet taking off his sneakers and socks tossing them into a careless pile. The rest of Stiles clothes Derek shredded with his claws, too impatient to bother with buttons and zips and tossed the rags onto the pile. It wasn't as though the boy would ever need them again. On closer inspection the boy's clothes were poor quality, patched and threadbare. Really Derek was doing him a favor getting him out of the life that lay ahead of him and setting him on a new and shiny path. True he was going to be little more than a sex slave, a bitch, but he'd get fed, bathed, have a warm place to sleep and medical attention when he needed it and he wouldn't be forced to take drugs and some Alphas grew quite fond and possessive of their bitches. As for the body modifications he'd soon get used to them, they were after all for his own good. His training would be as simple or as difficult as Stiles made it. Derek felt the familiar thrill of discovery hum through his veins as inch by inch the boy's body was uncovered, his satin skin luminescent under the artificial light. His eyes raked the boy's naked body and devoured him hungrily from his short, sable hair to his long toes, appreciative and critical. The boy had long, lean muscle but he was underweight, his ribs showing and the angular points of his hips and collar bone. Derek made a note to give an extra midday feeding until his ideal weight was reached. His body hair had just begun to grow in, wisps of dark hair on his chest, at his groin and underarms and fine hair on his arms and legs. Castration and Deaton's hormone implant would deal with that, soften his sharp angles and give him juvenile breasts to compliment his dusky pink nipples. Derek bobbed down and ran the tips of his fingers over Stiles silky skin, the moles extending over his body. His hand swept down in a long stroke over Stiles chest, trailed down his abdomen and flat stomach to his groin. Derek's fingers curled around the plump, pink cock, shorter than his own resting against a milky thigh. He brushed his thumb over the broad head and felt the cock twitch against his palm. It was pretty, the balls beneath a darker hue, hairless, nicely shaped, it was almost a shame he was going to lose them, but wasn't as if he'd ever need them. Derek raised his eyes up the length of his body to Stiles face. He was pretty but not feminine with a snub, slightly upturned nose above a generous mouth with plump, pink lips. Long, dark eyelashes rested in a fan against pale cheeks with the faintest flush of pink and surmounted by sculptured brows. Derek turned him over and ran his hand down the knots of Stiles spine to the round globes of his ass, kneading and stroking the firm, young flesh. He pulled his buttocks apart and inspected the tightly furled entrance to is body, a dusky rosebud waiting to open. He rimmed it gently with his thumb. "Soon." He murmured under his breath and sat back his hand curling around the boy's hip and shifting him onto his side and stroking gently. All in all Derek was pleased with his choice, but the final approval was Deucalion's. The werewolf sat back on his haunches, pulled the case of syringes from his pocket and set it on the floor and flipped the lid, taking out the full syringe and tapping it with his index finger before he uncapped the needle. He jabbed the boy's thigh again and pressed the plunger emptying the sedative into the unconscious boy. He plucked the case from the ground and pushed to his feet, replacing the spent syringe with the other to be disposed of in the incinerator along with what was left of Stiles clothes.The sedation would last until after Deuclion had seen him in the morning and the boy would be woozy and disorientated for most of the day which was probably just as well. Derek swept up the tatters of Stiles clothes and sneakers and held them balled into one hand as he shut the kennel door with one last, lingering look at the boy inside. He hoped Deucalion approved him, he had a feeling he'd be lots of fun... ***** Stiles ***** Chapter Notes Warning: Wrist Mitts, Ankle Bootees, Thigh Cuffs, Harness, Gag, Knee Protectors, Nudity, Mild Violence, Restraint, Non-Con Sexual Touching, Non-Sexual Voyeurism.   A/N Apologies for the late post. I had to replace my laptop last week and set up the new one. Derek left the block via the outside door after dimming the lighting and shutting the door behind him. He stalked along the path to the large, brick built incinerator he kept for disposing of this and that, opened the heavy iron door and tossed what remained of Stiles belongings and the spent syringes inside. Stiles, what the fuck kind of name was that anyway? The bitch would get a new and more fitting name of course, but it was up to Deucalion to decide what it was. Thinking about Deucalion, the Alpha needed to be made aware that he had secured a likely boy. His eyes darted to his wrist watch, a few minutes past midnight- Derek grunted. Time had little significance for werewolves, perhaps because of their longevity but night or day it really didn't matter and Deucalion wouldn't appreciate delay in being informed about the boy and Derek needed his approval before he went any further. If Deucalion refused to approve the boy, unlikely but possible, he would need to dispose of him immediately and Derek would rather do that before the boy awoke, it waskinder and less hassle. Surprisingly, Derek was not cruel for its own sake, not often anyway. His brand of cruelty had a method and a purpose, he didn't shrink from causing pain but didn't take excessive pleasure from it, that's not to say he didn't enjoy it but he knew when to stop. He wasn't blessed with an overabundance of patience, but had enough control to walk away and come back when he was calmer, a lot of Alphas didn't. The boy had done nothing to him, he deserved to meet his end quickly,oblivious to what was about to happen and he would administer the killing blow cleanly. Derek pressed the large, round red button and the gas fired incinerator ignited and roared into life, in moments the boy's history would be obliterated. Derek turned away and left the incinerator running, he might need it later. He got into the car and drove it out of sight around the side of the house and quickly covered it, he needed to get it detailed before he drove it again. Leon's pungent scent lingered. Once inside the house Derek pulled his smartphone from his pocket and logged onto the feed from the bitch block. The unobtrusive camera was sent up just above the flat panel and pointed directly into the bitch's kennel, Stiles was exactly as he'd left him, laid on the floor on his left side. Satisfied, Derek dialed Deucalion and it rang twice before being answered. "Derek." Deucalion's greeting was sharp but not unfriendly, there were noises and voices in the background. Derek was un-phased that the Alpha knew it was him, he'd have been more surprised if he hadn't. "Good evening Alpha, I hope I'm not disturbing you?" His voice was schooled into cool politeness. "You are," Derek heard the ambient background noise become muffled, changed and knew he'd stepped away from wherever he was, "there again it would be difficult not to disturb someone as busy as I am." Deucalion paused a moment. "I'm sure it's important." Derek was aware of Deucalion's patronizing tone, but it really didn't matter, after all he was paying handsomely for the privilege. "I have a boy I think you will like." Derek smiled grimly at Deucalion's inhaled breath. "Really, so soon?" "It wasn't a big ask," Derek shrugged and although the Alpha couldn't see him he was sure he heard it in his voice, "I need you to come and take a look at him before I go any further." He continued. "Yes, of course." The sound became muffled as though Deucalion had covered the mouthpiece with his hand, Derek knew the Alpha was speaking to someone and then the sound came back clearly. "I'll be there with you in an hour." A small smile played around Derek's mouth at Deucalion's assumption it was convenient and he was tempted to say it wasn't, but $225,000 was worth a bit of inconvenience. "We'll be waiting. Did you get the contract I emailed?" "Yes." "Bring it with you, it'll save time. If you like the boy you can sign it and I'll get to work." Derek said without inflection. "Very well," Deucalion answered in a cool tone, not used to being told what to do, "I'll be there in an hour." The call was ended before Derek had a chance to reply. He held the phone in his hand for a moment and looked at it with a raised brow, clearly dealing with Deucalion wasn't going to be easy. Finally Derek tossed the phone lightly onto the coffee table, he had an hour to prepare. He despertely needed a shower and change of clothes to rid himself of the grubby feeling he had just from being near Leon and he needed some strong, black coffee. He strolled into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee and left it whilst he bounded upstairs for quick, hot shower. He shed his jacket as he walked through his bedroom, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair, he skimmed out of the rest of his clothes in the bathroom and threw them straight into the laundry basket, unsure if he'd wash or burn them. Derek adjusted the water until the spray was needle sharp peppering his skin and has hot as he could stand. It was abrasive and cathartic, a psychological cleansing as well as a physical one. He scrubbed at his skin with lathered hands, ridding himself of any of Leon's contamination, washed his hair and rinsed thoroughly all with quick, clinical efficiency and detachment, after which he felt better and his skin glowed hotly red. Derek stepped from the shower and toweled himself dry and grabbing a smaller towel, strode into the bedroom rubbing at his damp hair. He dressed in worn blue jeans and wedged his torso into a grey T shirt that strained a little across his muscular chest and around his biceps. Scuffed and worn lightweight black boots finished his outfit and he finger combed his hair into his usual style. Back in the kitchen Derek slid his ass onto a tall stool and sat at the granite topped breakfast bar and poured himself a mug of strong, aromatic, black coffee and waited for Deucalion. Derek sipped his coffee and got lost in thoughts about the new bitch; how he would proceed with 'training', what she would look like in her collar and harness, the creamy paleness of her skin, her upturned nose, generous mouth and what it would feel like around his cock, how much better she would look when her hair grew out, thick and shaggy. There was something special about this one and he'd have to fight his own battle of personal restraint. Derek was hurtled back to reality by Bear's booming bark from his kennel and his own preternatural hearing picked up a distant car turning off the road onto the gravel drive. Derek set down his mug on the counter and rose from the stool and strode purposefully through the house to the door to the bitch block, unlocked it and stepped through closing it behind him. In the dim lighting it was easy for him to make out the shape of the bitch still laid on the floor of the kennel. He crossed to the outer door and turned up the lighting before unlocking the door and casting it open. Pale light spilled out onto the path and slanted across the drive as Derek stood silhouetted in the doorway. The headlights from Deucalion's black limousine picked out the shrubs and trees that boarded the drive as it followed its curve past the front door of the house and rolled to a stop opposite Derek. Ennis hurriedly got out and opened the rear door with a flourish. Deucaion's legs swung out and he tipped upright with one, fluid movement and took a single step away from the car. He was casually dressed in dark, tailored slacks, a dark Henley and wearing a brown, suede jacket. "Wait here for me Ennis." He said easily before striding to where Derek was waiting. Ennis gave Derek a withering glance and despite the animosity radiating from the tall muscle bound Alpha, Derek's face remained an unfathomable mask of indifference. Ennis tipped his head in reluctant acknowledgement. "Alpha." Derek pushed his hand out toward Deucalion, but the blond brushed it aside and stepped straight past him. "You must forgive Ennis he's a tad antisocial." Derek let his hand fall with an arch of one eyebrow. "Really? I can't say I noticed." He muttered as he stepped after Deucalion into the bitch block and closed the door. Deucalion stepped further into the complex, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting and taking in the long hallway with closed doors leading off it and at the end. He cast his eyes around appreciatively. "My Derek, you have quite the set up here." He said as he turned toward him with a thin smile. Derek dipped is head in acknowledgement of the reluctant praise. "My own design, comprehensive and self-contained. I can do everything here," he gestured around him with some pride, "there's even a surgical theater and one bed hospital to allow us to carry out complex surgeries and modifications without the need for the bitch to leave the premises. Less trauma." Deucalion's eyebrows rose. "And your surgeon would be?" "Alan Deaton." "Ah," Deucalion nodded with a smile, "I've heard nothing but good things about Dr Deaton, for a human he's remarkable." "Brilliant," Derek concurred, "I have complete faith in him." "Excellent." Deucalion paused and made a show of looking around. "The bitch?" He enquired quietly. "Is in her kennel here." Derek answered quickly ushering the Alpha over to where the bitch was being held. Deucalion gave a dark chuckle as his eyes scanned the small, barred area. "Kennel? Surely cell is more fitting." "I prefer kennel. " Derek replied glibly, reaching and unlocking the door . It released with a quiet hiss, opened and Deucalion took step inside, his eyes lowering to the boy's prone form. Derek remained where he was at the door, arms folded loosely over his chest, legs slightly apart, his eyes siding between the Alpha and the body on the floor. Deualion gazed at the boy with frown. "Why is he unconscious?" He asked without drawing his eyes away from Stiles. "He's still sedated." Derek replied dryly. Deucalion grunted and took several steps closer, his piercing blue eyes scanning the boy's long limbs and slight body. He nudged Stiles with the toe of his shoe and he rolled, flopping onto his back. Deucalion tipped his head to one side and studied his face a moment."He's pretty enough, good mouth." Derek didn't feel the need to answer and remained mute as Deucalion bobbed down at the boy's side and allowed his narrowed eyes to stroll slowly down the length of his body, chest, abdomen, stomach, groin, where his eyes lingered before sweeping down over taut thighs and shapely legs to feet with delicate toes. Had he been awake Stiles would have blushed and squirmed under the Alpha's sharp, and assessing gaze. The blond took in the boy's youthful, beardless face, expanse of creamy skin and long, lean muscles, the wisps of dark hair on his chest and slightly thicker at his groin. "How old?" "Fourteen." Deucalion gave a hum of satisfaction. "His story." "A runaway. Dead mother, drunken, abusive father who pimped him out in the last year or so for booze money. No other relatives." Derek reeled off Stiles history in a concise, emotionless monologue. One he'd heard many times before. "It never ceases to amaze me," Deucalion trailed his fingertips over Stiles chest and abdomen, across his flat stomach heading South, "how very careless humans are with their young."He cast a quick sideways glance at Derek who gave a noncommittal shrug of his wide shoulders. "Nice skin," the Alpha's eyes swept back to the boy, "pale, silky." His mouth pushed into a moue of distaste. "I can't say I'm a fan of all the moles, I would have preferred if he were unblemished." Derek's arms tightened. "I rather like the moles, they add intrigue and a uniqueness." He answered evenly. The Alpha inhaled a long breath and let it out slowly with an audible hiss, he wasn't used to someone challenging his opinion, still Derek's heartbeat was even and steady. "I daresay I can get used to them," he conceded, " and he is attractive." He gave Derek a look which clearly challenged him to disagree with him. "Yes indeed, very attractive." Derek answered the challenge, curiious that he couldn't pick any sign of arousal from Deucalion. Slender fingers curled around Stiles plump cock as it lay flaccid against his thigh, Deucalion squeezed it and felt it twitch against his palm. "Nice cock, good balls. Shame he's going to loose them." He muttered almost to himself. Derek unfurled his arms and let them hang at his sides. "I always advocate castration, it takes care of so many problems before they arise," he began to reel off the advantages, "better temperament, less hair over the body, softens the angles into curves, softer skin and hair, increases submission..." "Yes, yes," Deucalion raised his hand to stop the flow,"I am well aware of why it's done..." "And of course," Derek continued unphased, "it makes the bitch concentrate on your pleasure, not their own." He gestured at the boy with his hand. "And emphasizes your dominion over their body. It's not as if they need them and you can always leave the cock as it is. It'll shrink by a third to a half anyway once he looses the balls." He concluded matter-of- factly. Deucalion flicked at the boy's lax organ. "No," he put his hands on his knees and pushed upright never taking his eyes off the body, "let's stick with what we decided I'm not that enamored of his cock and want the option of a tight cunt to fuck." He turned to Derek with a thin lipped smile. "I don't like his hair." "It'll grow out." Derek said casually. "And he could do with putting on a little weight, I have never enjoyed fucking a bag of bones." "A regular diet will take care of that." "What color are his eyes?" "Dark whiskey, like sour mash." "Excellent."Deucalion dipped is head sharply once. "Everything seems in order." He reached into the pocket of his suede jacket and drew out a folded piece of paper and offered it to Derek. "I trust this will be satisfactory." It was a rhetorical question and Derek plucked the paper from Deucalion's fingers and unfolded it and his eyes scanned it quickly. It was a printout of the contract between them and held Deucalion's signature at the bottom. "Quite satisfactory." Derek nodded and refolded the contract and pushed it into the rear pocket of his jeans. "All that remains now is to give your bitch her name." Deulcalion pouted and studied the form on the floor. "What name do they go by at present?" "Stiles." "Stiles?" Deucalion's gaze swung to Derek. "Seriously?" "His origins are foreign." Derek explained with a indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Humph," Deucalion snorted, "that will never do." His expression grew thoughtful, his voice distant as he looked at the boy. "Such delightfully pale skin, I'm thinking Pearl or perhaps Luna. What do you think?" He asked suddenly turning toward Derek. Derek's eyes slid from the boy to the Alpha and back, the sudden question catching him on the back foot. "It's not for me to choose the name, the bitch is going to be yours." Deucalion chuckled. "Very diplomatically put Derek, but seriously I'd appreciate your opinion." "Whichever you prefer Alpha." Derek insisted. "Come Derek," the Alpha's voice was edged with impatience, "I've asked for your opinion." Derek might also be an Alpha, but he acknowledged Deucalion's seniority and power, pissing him off by dodging the question wasn't an option so he schooled his face to indifference and studied the new Bitch. "If she was mine I'd probably go with Luna." He answered mildly. Deucalion clapped is hands together and a broad, somewhat malevolent grin graced his features. "There, that wasn't so hard. Luna it is then."Derek arched an elegant brow. "How soon will you begin transformation?" "Immediately, I'll take her to see Deaton later today for an initial check up, shots and so on." "Splendid!" Deucalion's hand landed on Derek's shoulder. "I have every confidence in your abilities." His patronizing tone grated on Derek's nerves. "Thank you Alpha." The hand slid away. "Which surgery will you perform first?" Deucalion asked with morbid curiosity. "Probably the partial de vocalization and the tendons of the fingers. They're not big surgeries and in no way interfere with he rest of her training, but their impact in psychological terms is very great. It more or less makes her helpless and increases dependence on me and her eagerness to please." Deucalion frowned. "I would have thought castration a priority, it's not a big surgery." "Of itself no," Derek agreed, " but you want full androginoid sex reassignment and that's a big surgery and will involve bed rest for several days and weeks for full healing. It'll interfere with her training." Deucalion nodded. "I bow to your expertise." He stepped toward the door of the kennel. "I expect you to keep me fully appraised of her progress," he muttered as he pushed past Derek, "I'll stop by to see the transformation for myself." "Of course Alpha," Derek stepped after him, "if you could call ahead and let me know...." Deucalion turned quickly to face him with narrowed, piercing eyes. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to disturb her training schedule." Derek added with a tight smile. Intense blue eyes studied Derek for a moment, searching his face for any sign of insolence and finding a steady heartbeat and unfathomable expression, Deucalion snorted softly and pivoted toward the outside door. "How long do you anticipate it'll take until she's ready." He asked as he strode along. "Six to nine months." The Alpha stopped abruptly. "I didn't think you were serious." Black brows knitted together in frown."I quoted as long in the contract." Derek asserted. "Indeed, the thing is Hale I'm not a patient wolf, I'm sure you could hurry things along, shave a month off here and there. It can't be that difficult to train a human," he paused, "unless you anticipate a problem?" Derek folded his arms over his chest and widened his legs taking a defensive stance. "May I remind you Alpha Deucalion that you came to me because you know I can deliver what you want. I don't cut corners either with training, surgeries or time to heal. Healing is the key here, he's young and might heal quickly, there again he's human and may not and I haven't had time to assess his susceptibility and resistance to training." Deucalion noted the defiance in Derek's eye and a ghost of a smile appeared around his mouth. "Very well, I'll curb my impatience, for a while at least." He reached the door to the block. "I've had a think about what you said about piercing's. I'd like nipple, clitoris, labia piercing's and my pack sigil branded on the left hip." Derek nodded, in the greater scheme of things they were incidentals. "We can discuss what you want at a later date." Derek opened the door for Deucalion to step through.   "When will you begin?" "The moment you leave, as I said I'm taking her for her initial appointment with Deaton later today." The blond Alpha cast one last look at the kennel. "I shall look forward to hearing from you Derek." Without waiting for a reply Deucalion brushed past Derek and stepped through the open door. Ennis was leaning casually on the side of the car, arms folded across his impressive chest, he straightened as he saw his Alpha and opened the rear door. Deucalon ducked as he slid onto the rear seat and Ennis closed the door. Derek watched from the doorway as Ennis rounded the car to the driver's side and cast him a malevolent glare. He tugged the door open and slid his six foot four bulk behind the wheel. Derek had no idea why Deucaion's Alpha bodyguard had taken such an obvious dislike to him and he didn't really care, he was a firm believer in the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Perhaps Ennis believed that he could break a human and Derek had no doubt that he could, but there was a world of difference between breaking and training. One produced a mindless, cringing creature who obeyed slavishly through a broken mind and body motivated largely by fear, self preservation and the other subtly bent their will to your own, produced an obsessive desire to please and slavish devotion, robbed them of their identity and replaced it with one of your choosing. Righteous fear played a part, respect, the carrot and the stick applied in the right amounts, mental and emotional manipulation as well as physical punishment, a subtle play of light and dark. Derek would break the human down into composite parts and rebuild them into the bitch he wanted. This was his art. Derek watched the limousine as it drove up the drive, secured the door and turned back to the block, time to begin work...   The fluorescent lights were out and mid morning sun shone through the row of high windows and cheerily illuminated the bitch block and Stiles kennel. It crept down the wall and slanted across the floor, warming Stiles flank he lay on his side. It wasn't the first sensation Stiles was aware of as he clawed his way through the thick and cloying fog of sedation, inch by inch discovering his body. He was laid on something hard and smooth and because he could feel it against the length of his skin, he had to conclude that he was naked on the floor. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the drug, but this was not as alarming as it should have been and it was when he tried to straighten his legs and was unable to do so that he began to panic. Derek sat on the high backed wooden chair opposite the door of the kennel absorbed in the book he was reading. It was mid morning and he'd forced himself to get a few hours sleep, not because he needed it but because his body hummed with excitement and anticipation at the prospect of beginning work with a new bitch and he needed to be calm and focused. The werewolf had decided to allow the human to sleep off the sedative rather than use the reversal drug, they were usually less groggy, disorientated and alert more quickly. He heard the uptick in the human's heartbeat and increased blood pressure that heralded his awakening and his clear, pale hazel eyes swept up from the page. The boy whimpered, his hand twitched and Derek shut his book and placed it on the floor beside his chair, leaned forward and rest his elbows on his thighs, forearms stretched along his legs and hands draped loosely over his knees and waited. This initial meeting was the singular most important event in their association and Derek had left nothing to chance. He had 'dressed' the boy while he was still sedated, it was easier than fighting with him when he was alert. It immediately put the human at a passive disadvantage, a fait accompli and how the bitch reacted would say a lot about their future interactions. Derek had even dressed the part in a grey wife beater that showcased his raw, muscled body, wide, broad shoulders, plump biceps, roped forearms and strained across the mounds of his pectorals and clung to his undulating washboard abs. Tight, blue jeans emphasized his trim waist, tight thighs and the bulge at his crotch. All meant to be arousing and intimidating in equal measure. Stiles heart pounded against his ribs. Why couldn't he straighten his legs? He tried to force his eyes to open as he struggled and flailed. "Stop struggling and open your eyes. Use your hands to push up onto all fours." Surprisingly there was a soothing tone to Derek's voice. Stiles froze, he'd only heard the voice briefly but it sent fear spiraling through his body and his eyes flew wide, unfocused and disorientated. Derek, the man from the car. His eyes bounced from one surface to another. Tiles, white tiled walls and a black and white tiled floor beneath him, bars in front of him, he was in some kind of cell. He could make out a shadowy shape beyond the bars, Stiles shook his head and blinked rapidly as his eyes came into focus. He struggled to his knees, his heart careering wildly out of control and trying to suck air around something pushed between his teeth and locked into place around his head. He lifted his hands to pull at it and saw to his horror that his hands were encased in what appeared to be black, thumbless boxing mitts and fastened into place by broad wrist cuffs with a tiny padlock with shiny silver fastenings and D rings. Stiles twisted his head and found the same sort of arrangement on his feet, padded bootees with broad ankle cuffs, a thick linked chain clipped to the D rings and running up to D rings in wide cuffs around each thigh, the chain was only long enough to keep his legs bent so that he could kneel, crawl or lie on his side. There were protective pads strapped to his knees and some sort of harness over his shoulders, across his chest, down his abdomen to another thick strap around his waist, all buckled into place at the back. Panic raged through his mind.What the fuck was happening? What kind of deranged psychopath had him. Was he going to kill him, torture him or worse? He drooled around the gag in his mouth, eyes wide and afraid he began to gasp for breath, his sore lungs burned. A movement beyond the bars caught his eye and he recoiled as Derek rose to his feet. Frightened eyes followed the movement stinging and glistening with tears. The bitch was beautiful, Derek knew classic black was good color to choose for her harness, mitts, bootees, cuffs and the black bone gag just finished her off nicely. Terror rolled off her in great, cresting waves and crashed over him so that he flexed and unflexed his hands in agitation. Her heart pounded, blood roared through her veins and she smelt of confusion and despair. She whimpered behind the gag, eyes pleading for help, chest heaving. Derek stepped closer to the bars. "Are you going to have a panic attack?" He asked dispassionately. "Because I have to tell you it doesn't matter, we'll continue this when you come around." He paused watching with his intense gaze like he was studying a bug in a jar. "Breathe through your nose, deep, slow breaths. In, out, in, out." Perhaps it was fear that made Stiles obey and breathe in the rhythm Derek set. His breathing evened out and the threat of blackout receded to the outer edges of his mind. His head thumped, chest ached and his heart threatened to burst through with every beat against his ribs. Derek leaned his hip casually against the bars. "Take it easy girl." A deep crease of confusion appeared between Stiles eyes, he wasn't agirl. As Stiles stared a ghost of a smile appeared round Derek's mouth. "I see you remember me." It was hard for Stiles to keep on looking at Derek even though he did look different from the last time he saw him. Gone were the nerdy spectacles and clothes, his thick, black hair was swept back and he had the start of a dark beard. This guy was wickedly handsome with mysterious pale green eyes that beckoned to him irresistibly, a bad boy and undoubtedly dangerous, schooled in sinful, Satanic ways. Who knew that such a hot, ripped body lay under those clothes? It hurt to remember the way Leon had betrayed him and how stupid he had been to get into the car , how easily he had been an architect in his own downfall. Stiles looked away trying to focus on something that would distract his traitorous train of thought. How long had he been unconscious? What else had Derek done to him besides dress him up like something from a bad porn movie? "Easy," Derek soothed as he became concerned about Stiles elevated heart rate and blood pressure, it would be a shame to loose the bitch to a stroke or heart attack, costly too, " it's going to be all right. I'm not going to kill you, I need you to calm down and pay attention to what I'm saying. I know your confused and frightened but I need you to listen and believe what I tell you. Can you do that girl?" Again with the girl, Stiles stifled a sob. Derek sighed. "Crying won't help the situation," he said coldly, "it'll just make you snotty and gross and you'll find it harder to breathe. And frankly it pisses me off and you really don't want to do that." Stiles choked back another sob and Derek waited until he was sure he had his attention. "The first thing you need to know is that escape is impossible." Stiles blinked. "Even if you managed to get out of your kennel and the building your not in Kansas any more." The crease reappeared between Stiles eyes. "It's more than a hundred miles to the city and the second thing you need to know is that I'm a werewolf." Oh whoopee, not just a run-of-the-mill psychopathic kidnapper then. Stiles eyebrows rose comically high. This one's a batshit crazy, delusional, psychopathic kidnapper, he thinks he's some kind of mythical monster. Just my luck, why couldn't he believe he was the fucking Tooth Fairy. Derek watched as the skepticism moved in Stiles eyes. "You should believe what I tell you," he said dryly, "look." Stiles stared in horror as Derek shifted into his Beta form. Brow ridges dropped, whiskers thickened, his muscles seemed to become even bigger, the tips of his ears grew pointed, fangs filled his mouth, claws grew where his nails had been and his eyes became a vivid electric blue. Derek grew monstrous before his eyes. Stiles heart threatened to explode through his chest like in Alien as he watched helplessly and then scrambled back into the furthest corner of his kennel... Demonstration complete Derek continued amiably. "See, I won't lie to you," Derek said as with a little effort his shift melted away into his human guise. "You need to accept what I say to you. This is a werewolf community, lots of us here, werewolves or werewolf sympathizers. Seventy miles of werewolf held territory between here and the highway to the city and not all of us are as benign toward humans as I am. There are those who wouldn't hesitate to tear a human apart on sight," he paused a moment to give time for what he said to sink in, "you're quite safe with me." He added in a soothing tone. "I won't kill you, but I won't lie to you by saying I'll never hurt you because I probably will." Stiles eyes darted up to Derek's face. So not comforting. "But never more than you can stand." Still not comforting. "And punishment is in your hands. Do as I say, when I say it and I won't punish you unnecessarily. Piss me off and it's on your own head." He warned. "I will hurt you, but never permanently." If this was a pep talk it was failing miserably. "You need to understand so you can survive here. There are three types of werewolf, Alpha, Beta, Omega. I'm an Alpha, we're the strongest most powerful of our kind, the leaders. The Betas are the most common werewolf and work with the Alphas. The Omegas are about as common as Alphas and for want of a better description males and females are breeders. Betas breed with Betas and Alphas with Omega. Alphas might take other Alphas and Betas or even Omegas as mates, but only breed with Omegas." Stiles head spun, what the hell did it have to do with why he'd been kidnapped? "All this means very little to you except for why you're here." Oh, at last the punch line. Stiles concentrated on Derek's words. "Our society has lots of laws, regulations and traditions about who fucks who and under what circumstances. Casual sex is frowned on unless with your mate or breeder. This is all very well but it's frustrating for Alphas, we have a powerful sex drive and appetites that are hard to satisfy, it comes with being an Alpha and high levels of testosterone and dominance." Derek offered in explanation, paused and looked Stiles straight in the eyes. "This is where you come in." Stiles paled. "Human males, especially younger ones are very much like male Omega to an Alpha and putting it bluntly," Derek gave a cynical smile, "Alphas like to fuck your tight asses. Your not werewolves, there are no rules or regulations attached to you, Alphas can do what they like to you and you have the advantage that you can't get pregnant. Sex with you isn't even counted as infidelity. " He absorbed the sudden spike in fear rolling off Stiles and ashen features with satisfaction. "I don't know why you're looking so horrified, I'm not asking you to do anything you weren't prepared to do for Leon, the only difference is now you're doing it with werewolves. In fact you should be thanking me. " Derek pouted to indicate his hurt feelings. "I've saved you from a downward spiral of despair, of being a whore, passed around from man to man, selling your body to eek out a barely subsistence existence. Out of your head on drugs, riddled with disease, abused and probably found dead in a dumpster before you're twenty five." His eyebrow arched. " The Alpha who wants you is willing to pay handsomely and if you adapt and accept your training, with a little modification that you'll hardly notice, I can transform you into a treasured bitch, a place to live, a pampered plaything, fed and cared for, medical attention when you need it, enough food and all you have to do is learn how to obey and sexually serve and please your Alpha." Derek's soft, coaxing voice lulled Stiles into thinking maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, especially if all Alphas looked anything like Derek. "It's not hard." The Alpha added. Derek's green eyed gaze burned into Stiles as he pressed his back against the smooth, tiled wall at the back of the kennel. The spell was broken by Derek's final words, now he knew, his free will as well as his freedom was to be taken away from him. He was destined to be a sex slave to a monster with no laws to protect him, the Alpha could do what he liked to him. He might be a whore, the things that Derek forecast might come true but it was his choice to live that life, here he had no choice, he wouldn't even be allowed to die. Derek pushed away from the bars, his voice hardening ruthlessly. "And in any case it's not as if you have a choice." His lips pressed together thinly."Listen up girl, from now on your name's Luna and here's how it going to be. For the foreseeable future you'll live in this kennel and crawl on all fours, I don't want to see your hands leave the ground ever and you won't attempt to stand, that's why your wearing mitts and knee pads. Understand?" The wolf waited until Stiles gave a tentative nod before continuing. “I walk in a room, you look at me . For now I'm your Alpha, you depend on me for everything and have to always know where I am, what I’m doing, what I might need you for. You learn to anticipate my desires. Only way you learn that is if you watch me, got it?” Derek paused, satisfied when Stiles dipped his head once. "You do what I say when I say it, I don't want to have to repeat myself. You never look me directly in the eyes, my wolf interprets it as a challenge and I will hurt you. If I tell you to look at me, raise your head and concentrate your gaze on my mouth, always keep your eyes lowered. For now I'll let you keep your voice, don't speak unless I ask you a question or tell you to, you may make other noises but if I hear words coming out of your mouth I'm liable to tear your tongue out." Stiles eyes rounded in fear. "But I'm not a monster," Derek said easily, "Leon said you're mouthy so for now I'll help you and you'll wear that gag to remind you not to speak and I'll remove it for eating and drinking, at which times you'll remain silent.   You'll get three meals a day ,morning, early afternoon and evening. You'll have an hour to clear your bowl and get a drink. If you don't eat, that's up to you," he shrugged, "but be warned I won't let you starve yourself, your worth too much and I will force feed you if I have to and neither of us will enjoy the experience." Stiles felt the terrible urge to laugh hysterically bubbling up inside him. This couldn't be happening, it had to be a macabre joke. "Other than that," Derek continued. "you'll get three or four bathroom breaks a day and go outside to piss and shit, do it in there," he gestured into kennel with his chin, "and I'll hose you down with the kennel, otherwise you'll get a warm bath daily, werewolves have sensitive noses and you'll be kept clean." Fuck, fuck, fuck, the sick bastard might look a Greek god version of Satan, but he was barking in more ways than one! "I won't stand for displays of disobedience, poor temperament or aggression, " Derek warned grimly, "it pisses me off and you don't want to do that." Stiles could hardly believe that the pathetic whine that broke out from behind the gag was made by him. Derek's voice softened. "Put aside all thoughts of how you think you should behave as a human and obey me and we'll get along fine. I know this is scary and a lot to take in and I won't bother you with more now. But don't take leniency for weakness, I'm going to make you into the perfect bitch, needy, obedient, willing - it doesn't matter what your Alpha asks you to do, you'll just do it." Stiles wary eyes followed Derek's hand as he lifted it and keyed in the combination and looked into the retinal scanner. The barred door unlocked with a hiss and he swung it open and took a step inside the kennel. "Do you need to outside?" He asked mildly."Move your head yes or no." Stiles shook his head. Derek arched a brow. "Are you sure? It's no bother." Stiles shook his head again. Derek grunted. "Very well, but remember what I said about fouling the kennel." He gave Stiles a second to change his mind before continuing. "I'm going to take off your gag and let you get a drink, I don't want you getting dehydrated. I'll feed you later today after we get back from seeing Dr Deaton." Derek chuckled at Stiles surge of fear. "Don't worry,"he said with an amused tone, "he's only giving to give you few shots and a once over today, just making sure your healthy." Stiles wanted to run screaming, crawling or whatever out of there as quickly as possible, the kennel door was open but he was greatly disadvantaged, the sedative was still circulating his system and Derek stood in the way, but he might not get another chance. Derek took a single step toward him and Stiles eyes bounced from Derek to the open door and back, he fought the desire to shrink back against the wall. Derek reached out his hand. "Here girl, here Luna." He coaxed. "Come here and let me take the gag off." Despite Derek's mild manner Stiles was frozen to the spot, unable to get his limbs to move even if he wanted to. Derek pressed his lips together into a thin, straight line. "I'm not going to hurt you and I said I don't like repeating myself." There was a sharp edge to his voice. Abruptly Derek stepped forward and this hand snaked out and his fingers snagged the back of Stiles harness and he hauled him forward in front of him. Derek would have preferred that Stiles hair had been long enough for him to twist his fingers into the roots and wrench him forward, but it wasn't and his harness would have to do. The sudden movement brought Stiles to life and his eyes skidded to the open door. Derek bent over him and he felt the werewolf undo the strap at the back of his head and the gag slackened in his mouth. Stiles jaw ached but this was the least of his worries, he was a man not a dog, he was nobody's sex toy and he needed to get away and in a split second everything slid sideways. Derek was still bent over him concentrating on undoing the gag and he didn't have time to register Stiles spike in adrenaline and elevated heart rate before the boy reared up sharply to his knees and head butted Derek in the face and shoved him roughly away. In the normal course of event Stiles actions would have been neither here nor there, but he caught Derek by surprise and his head butt hit home, right on Derek's nose. The werewolf yelped and staggered back dropping the gag, Stiles bolted for the door as fast as his ungainly crawl would allow, Derek righted himself and shook his head spraying flecks of blood over the white tiled walls. The Alpha's snarl made Stiles blood run cold as he scrambled through the door and was suddenly wrenched from the floor and hauled back into the kennel and in blind panic he lashed out as hard as he could with this arms. "Let me go you crazy fucking bastard!" Stiles voice came out in a broken shriek as he lashed at Derek, he may as well have been beating a brick wall for all the impression he was making. Derek was eerily silent, drew back his arm and back handed Stiles across the cheek. The boy tasted his own blood as he flew across the kennel and into the opposite wall and slid down in a crumpled heap. He was too dazed and hurt to appreciate that Derek had pulled the blow at the last second and in terms of a werewolf it was little more than a love pat. But Stiles wasn't a werewolf, the inside of his cheek was spilt, his cheek was on fire and his jaw was possibly broken from the searing pain that made him feel nauseous... ***** Going On An Outing ***** Chapter Notes Warnings: Medical Examination, Choke Collar, Threat of Surgery, Dental Gag, Gags, Medical Equipment, Aftermath of Mild Violence. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Derek swiped the back of his hand across his face and smeared it with blood. He continued to swear under his breath as he strode over to the prone form crumpled in the corner of the kennel and hoisted Stiles onto his hands and knees using the back of his harness. Stiles swayed groggily, dazed and in pain, blood bubbling from his mouth and dripping onto the floor. "Are you fucking stupid?" Derek growled. " Look what you made me do!" Somewhere distant Stiles snickered bitterly at the thought that he could make Derek do anything. "What didn't you understand when I told you I'd hurt you if you pissed me off?" Stiles groaned, his head swam and fire burned in his cheek. Derek wrenched his wife beater over his head and balled it up in his hand and with a touch far more gentle than his harsh voice, he pressed the garment to Stiles mouth. "Don't swallow the blood, it'll make you sick." Derek kept a gentle, steady pressure on Stiles mouth as he coughed and spluttered out blood, the sickly taste of copper making him gag. "Did I knock out any teeth?" Stiles shook his head a little and then wished he hadn't as a wave of dizziness overtook him and his arms threatened to give way. Derek steadied him with a hand curled into his harness. "Steady girl." Derek's voice was low, almost gentle as the flow of blood began to ease. Derek waited until Stiles seemed steadier and then he cupped his chin with his hand and carefully manipulated his jaw. The bitch whimpered a little but there was no telltale click or grating of bone. The tension eased in Derek's broad shoulders, the bitch's jaw wasn't broken but the cheek was already swelling and a livid black and red bruise blossomed vividly under the pale skin. The Alpha probed cautiously at the bruise and Stiles hissed. "Ow!" "That hurts?" Well, duh. What the hell did the fucking bastard think? Stiles looked up at him whiskey eyes delivering a death glare, Derek's jaw tensed and Stiles quickly dropped his eyes. Derek felt a frisson of satisfaction at least the bitch had learned something. The zygomatic bone was in tact and the orbital socket, the bruising and swelling would soon go down, but there was no doubt that Deaton would comment, he was always reminding Derek how fragile humans were and urging him to handle them with care until they toughened up. The blood was probably from damage done to the inside of the bitch's mouth and Deaton would deal with it. Derek tilted upright, the blood soaked wife beater in his hand and studied Stiles for a moment taking in his dazed and bruised appearance and then seemed to make a decision. "Wait here." Derek said abruptly and turned away not waiting for an answer and strode out of the kennel without even bothering to close the door. Stiles eyes tracked him as he disappeared through on of the other doors. Stiles tried to focus on the open door, should he make a dash for it? What had seemed like a good idea before was suddenly less appealing. Where would he go? The outside door was undoubtedly locked even if he got that far. With the way he felt he couldn't move fast and what might Derek do to him if he tried to escape? His body quaked with fear. No, better to bide his time than risk Derek causing him serious injury. Derek returned carrying a metal tray with two glass bowls, one full of water and washrag, one empty, a towel draped over his bare shoulder and a tumbler of water. He entered the kennel with Stiles eyes following his every movement warily. The wolf crossed to where a platform jutted out from the wall a few inches above the floor with a thin mattress and blanket laid on it in the form of a rough bed and sat on the edge, the tray at his feet on the floor. He had taken the time to wipe his face free of the smears of blood and crooked his index finger at Stiles in invitation. "Come." Stiles blinked at the command and cocked his head to one side, his brain still sluggish from the sedative circulating his system and dazed from Derek's blow. Derek gave a tried sigh when the bitch didn't obey immediately, he pressed his lips together thinly and arched one eyebrow. "Y'know I thought you looked bright enough, seems that I may have over estimated your abilities on that score." His voice started off conversationally but became more ruthless as he progressed. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself." For a moment Stiles didn't move and he saw the instant Derek's eyes hardened, the way his muscles tensed when he made to rise from the bed and began to crawl reluctantly toward him, hand knee, hand, knee... Derek relaxed and his eyes followed Stiles progress as he crawled toward him. "There may be some hope for you yet" His tight smile wasn't encouraging. When Stiles was close enough Derek reached out and his hand and powerful fingers curled into the leather straps of the harness. Stiles cringed, afraid of being hit again as he was hauled between Derek's feet. "I'm not going to hit you again, unless you give me cause," the wolf rumbled, "here." Derek lifted the tumbler of water and pressed it to Stiles lips. "Swill out your mouth and spit into the empty bowl." Stiles hissed as the glass pressed painfully on his bruised lip and warm water flowed into his mouth, he swilled and spit the rust colored liquid into the empty bowl as he was instructed. Three times Derek made him repeat the exercise and then he seemed satisfied and put the tumbler down. The wolf ran one hand over the velvet brush of Stiles hair, following the contours of his head feeling the prickle against his palm. He soaked the washrag in the clean water of the other bowl and squeezed it out. "Chin up." Stiles raised his chin and Derek cupped it in one hand and gingerly swiped away the blood with far more gentleness than Stiles expected. "Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked in a choked voice. For a moment Derek's hand froze and his eyes hardened to a glacial green. Stiles cowered, the cringing form seemed to go some way to mollifying the wolf. Derek grunted and continued swiping away the blood. "I'm not a monster."   Actually, Stiles thought ruefully, you are. "No, " he continued, "why are you doing this, any of it to me?" A warning cloud settled on Derek's features and for a moment Stiles thought he had gone too far as the wolf's hand stilled again and then the tension eased in the square jaw. Derek's hand cupped Stiles bruised cheek and he felt the pain bleed away. "Because I can, because I'm good at what do and earn a lot of money doing it." Derek's voice was even and unemotional. The wolf continued to swipe the bood away and then dropped the washrag into the murky bowl and plucked the towel from his shoulder. Derek held Stiles chin with one hand and dabbed at his face with the towel held in the other. "Attacking me was a stupid thing to do," Stiles watched the play of Derek's muscles as they bunched and flexed in his arms and chest, "I'm a werewolf, a human can't best me," he added with a warning note, "your so fragile even a tap from me could do you serious damage." Stiles bristled, he wasn't fragile and he wanted to say that he had taken worse beatings from his father, but the look in Derek's eyes as he opened his mouth silenced him. "I could seriously hurt you without really meaning to, any werewolf could." Stiles noted the inherent warning the wolf's words held. "Like I said, it's not wise to piss me off." Derek's hand stilled and he released his chin. "Anyway," Derek moved the bowls to one side and folded the towel onto the tray, "I know all this is strange to you, a big change from your old life," he paused, "but you'd better get used to it there's no going back and anyway from what I saw it's not as if you have anything worth going back to." He gave a brief shake of his head. "This life is what you make of it, the Alpha who commissioned you is paying me a lot of money, he'll own you body and soul and you'll have a good life if you stop doing stupid things and thinking for yourself, you'll be taken care of." How dare Derek imply that somehow he deserved what he was doing to him, that he couldn't take care of or think for himself. Stiles face pinched and he gave a low snort. Derek's eyes flashed. "Stop that! I'm not asking you to do anything that you weren't prepared to do before, only now you do it with werewolves." That wasn't strictly true of course, he doubted even Leon would demand the same level of submission from him and that he took pleasure from being fucked by wolves and gigantic dogs, but he would save that tidbit until later. "You'll get everything you need to keep you healthy, including medical attention, that's more than you'd have gotten from Leon. All you have to do is forget about what you want and concentrate on pleasing and obeying your Alpha, which for the moment is me." Derek smirked. Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing, he wanted to punch the wolf's stupid, handsome face, run screaming from the kennel, but he could hardly move the sedative still active in his system. Derek pushed to his feet and studied him. "Is there anything you need? I'm not going to feed you until you've seen the doc and the sedative has had more time to wear off, but you should drink or you'll get dehydrated. Are you thirsty?" Stiles mouth suddenly felt as parched and grainy as the desert and he nodded. "Right, over here." Derek strode over to the front of the kennel and gestured to the large, hamster-like water bottle with curved, chrome spout. "You can get a drink here." Stiles eyes flicked to Derek and then to the bottle. The wolf had to be joking, right? Derek's face remained inscrutable. Guess not. Stiles crawled toward the front of the kennel, slow and awkward. Derek sighed, the bitch was slow and ungainly but grace could be taught and speed and fluid movement would come with time and practice. Stiles halted in front of the bottle and looked warily at it before taking the chrome spout between his lips and sucking on it like a straw. His cheeks hollowed but nothing happened, Derek snorted. "No. Don't suck it rim the end with your tongue and lick at it as if were the head of a cock and the water will come out." Stiles pulled off and gave Derek a momentary dirty look before doing at he was told. Cold water flooded his mouth and he swallowed eagerly, realizing for the first time how thirsty he was. Once, twice, three big gulps of water before Derek was pulling him off by his harness. "That's enough," he said roughly, "any more and you'll make yourself sick and I don't fancy cleaning up after you." Stiles kept his eyes lowered as a little cool water dribbled down his chin. Derek straightened before bending and scooping up the bone- shaped gag from where he'd dropped it when Stiles head butted him. He stretched it out between his hands and for a moment a look of indecision crossed his face. The bitch's face was bruised and swollen on the left side, like a hamster with its mouth stuffed and puffy below his eye. The fastenings of the gag would rub on it and the bitch had been quiet enough since the incident, Derek's eyes flickered and he stuffed the gag into the pocket of his pants. He couldn't make any better of what had happened but a few hours rest and maybe it wouldn't look so bad and Deaton wouldn't moan at him so much. "Get some rest," the wolf said abruptly, "you have a busy afternoon ahead." He gestured toward the platform that jutted from the wall with a mattress and blanket on it. "Being unconscious isn't the same as asleep." He stepped over to the tray and swept it up from the floor. "Well, come on." Derek watched impassively as Stiles crawled over to the bed and then scrambled up, ungainly, awkward and flopped onto one side. Satisfied he balanced the tray in one hand and secured the door to the kennel with the other before walking to the small kitchen where he prepared the bitch's food and depositing the tray and then leaving the block via the side door straight into the house. Stiles eyes tracked the wolf as he left and he couldn't help but admire Derek's fluid lines and graceful movements and then he was gone and he was left alone. He wanted to cry, tears stung behind his eyes but he was afraid the noise would attract the wolf and what he might do to him. He didn't want to sleep and his mind raced helter-skelter thinking of all that had happened to him. He didn't deserve this, any of it, at least Stiles thought he didn't and he had to escape the man, wolf or whatever he was. He was obviously dangerously psychotic and for the moment it was probably best to play along, avoid further injury and pissing Derek off. If he could make him trust him sooner or later Derek was bound to make a slip and he could seize the chance to escape and get help and put the wolf behind bars where he belonged. Stiles didn't want to sleep afraid of Derek coming back and also of what he might dream about, but his exhausted body betrayed him and he dropped off to sleep despite himself. In the house Derek logged onto the feed from the kennel and watched Stiles as his fought to stay awake on his phone. His eyelids would droop and then he'd jump awake only to close his eyes a few seconds later, he smiled grimly and watched as Stiles fell asleep and his body relaxed.   Stiles had no idea what had awakened him or how long he'd slept. The block was silent and flooded with the light of mid afternoon and he was immediately aware of two things.The inside cheek of his mouth was sore and his bladder was full to bursting and there was an ache in the pit of his stomach. Alarmed he was going to wet the bed Stiles slid off the bed to the floor. A noise made him jump, the sound of drawers opening and closing coming from the room at the end of the block. He peered through the bars of the kennel, the door at the end was ajar and he could see the shadow of someone in the room. Stiles heart beat against his ribs, it was presumably Derek, he'd seen no-one else and Derek had given the impression they were alone, but suppose it was someone else? And if it wasn't, what then? Stiles felt damned either way and shrank back from the bars, his bladder forgotten as footsteps neared the door. Stiles held his breath and actually felt relieved when Derek stepped into sight through the doorway. Better the devil you know. Stiles thought ruefully. The wolf had changed, his jeans were tight and back, his T-shirt white and he had pulled on a black, leather biker jacket with zips, studs and pockets, he wore lightweight black boots and grinned broadly when he saw Stiles was wake. He strode to the front of the kennel. "Ah, good your awake. I have a treat for you, your first outing." He had a thick linked chain in one hand, Stiles recognized it as a choke collar they used on dogs and a brown leather leash in the other. Carefully Derek threaded the collar and tested it on his wrist, it tightened when he pulled and slackened when he released it. "Now don't look so worried," he cajoled, "this is just temporary for today to make sure you are a good girl, you'll get another collar when you get home. Of course," Derek smirked, "you'll probably like it even less." The wolf unlocked the kennel and stood back. "Luna come." Stiles stayed where he was, Derek's brow arched. "Luna come!" There was bite to the command and Stiles flinched. Derek sighed and narrowed his eyes. "If I have to come and get you, you won't like it." He said softly, too softly and the inherent menace in his tone got Stiles moving. Stiles crawled to the front of the kennel and through the open door, Derek stopped him with a hand on his head. "Good girl. Keep your hands on the floor." Stiles tried to jerk his head away as Derek held out the collar but he caught his chin and held him firmly as he dropped the loop of chain over his head. The wolf adjusted the collar's position round Stiles neck and clipped on the leash and then experimented a couple of times tightening and slackening it. Stiles ducked his head to try and sip it off and when that didn't work raised a mittened hand to try and flick it off. "No! Bad girl!" Derek knocked his hand away and jerked the collar, the chain ratcheted up tight and the links bit into the tender skin of Stiles neck momentarily cutting off his air and then slackening. Stiles was still. "There we go, you'll soon get used to it." Derek reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out the bone shaped gag. "Just to make sure you don't speak out of turn." Stiles opened his mouth the say he wouldn't but he never got the chance as Derek pushed the rubber bone into his mouth and between his teeth then cinched the straps tight behind his head. "There." Derek stood back and scrutinized his handy work. "All set to visit doc Deaton." Derek walked slowly to the outside door of the block allowing Stiles time to crawl after him and keeping a slight tension on the leash so that the collar was neither too tight nor too slack. He opened the door and stepped into the light of a sunny afternoon and Stiles crawled after him. The boy blinked when he got outside his eyes adjusting to the light and looking around. Everywhere there were trees encroaching on the open space that surrounded the large house and in the distance the booming bark of dog. Stiles was so relieved to be outside that he forgot to be embarrassed by his nakedness and figuring the chances of his escape expanded exponentially outside the kennel, someone was bound to see him and come to his aid. Derek gave him a few minutes to get his bearings and then led him along the path that ran side the gravel driveway, the paving didn't hurt through the padding on his knees. They stopped at square piece of grass. "I know you need to take a piss." Reminded of the demands of his bladder Stiles felt a sharp ache in the pit of his stomach, he needed to pee desperately, his bladder as taut as a drum. "Go ahead." Derek encouraged. Stiles felt a mixture of horror and despair , Derek looked back at him with mild impatience. "We have an appointment to keep," he said with the hint of a threat, "I don't want us to be late, it's not polite. You can still go with the leg restraints on, squat or raise your leg if that's easier." To his mortification Stiles realized this was as good as it got, if only Derek would turn his back he'd always had shy bladder. "Well?" Derek narrowed his eyes. Stiles screwed his eyes shut, spread his legs as far apart as he could, squatted and released his bladder. He pissed like a racehorse and to his disgust some urine splashed onto himself, next time he'd lift his leg. The relief was immense and when he'd finished Derek praised him and ran his hand over his head. "Good girl, I told you, you could do it. You must learn to trust me. Come on." Derek jerked the leash and led him to where he'd drawn up the SUV with its tailgate open. Bear barked in the distance and Derek chuckled. "That's Bear, I guess he's eager to meet you, but we'll wait until tomorrow." Stiles shivered from the row the dog was making it sounded as if it was going to eat him. He peered into the back of the SUV, there was a wire cage, like a big dog crate with its door open and a thick rubber mat on the floor and a blanket. Without so much as a grunt of effort Derek used both hands on the back of his harness to swing Stiles into the air and into the crate. "Settle down." The wolf instructed as he closed the cage door. "It's not a long ride, may as well enjoy it." He closed the tailgate and for a moment Stiles was alone in the SUV before the driver's door opened and Derek slid behind the wheel.   Even from inside the crate it was possible for Stiles to see out of the tinted side windows and watch the countryside flashing past, fields, trees, hedgerows as they followed the turns and twists of the road. He guessed that Derek had told the truth and they were far out into the country, what had he said? it was more than a hundred miles to the city and they were in some kind of werewolf community well fuck that! They might be in the country but if there was a werewolf community everyone would know about it, no he reckoned Derek had just said that to scare him and if he got away, plenty of people would help him. They drove for twenty minutes and then things began to change, countryside gave way gradually to buildings, the sound of other vehicles, wide tree lined sidewalks with pedestrians, traffic lights, intersections and crossings, a school, shops, hospital, houses and smart apartment blocks, the hustle and bustle of a small, affluent town. Stiles heart leaped, as soon a he was lifted out of the SUV he would slip his collar and make a bolt for the nearest person, even if he couldn't speak anyone looking at him would know he needed help. Derek turned into a quieter street and parked up. "That's lucky, we've got a spot right outside the clinic girl, less distance for you to crawl." Stiles didn't care he was practically vibrating with excitement. Derek opened the door and slid out of the driver's seat, closed the door behind him and released the tailgate, Stiles got his first glimpse of the smart town through the wire of the crate. Derek unfastened the crate door and curled one hand into his harness to prevent his jumping out, not the he could anyway and wrapped the leash firmly around his free hand several times until it was taut, but not tight. "Remember," the wolf warned softy, "behave yourself and your hands never leave the ground." Effortlessly Derek swung Stiles from the crate to the sidewalk by the back of his harness and set him down, straight away Stiles lowered his head and backed up expecting the collar to sip off over his head. It didn't. The collar tightened and the links pinched his skin, he shook his head and Derek stared at him. "What on earth are you doing?" He asked with mild amusement. "Your making a spectacle of yourself." Stiles head jerked up wondering if he should fight the leash to draw more attention, but he was disappointed. The wide tree lined street was almost deserted and the one or two people going about their business gave him cursory, disinterested glances as if seeing a naked human crawling on hands and knees at the end of a leash, wearing a bone shaped gag and leg restraints was the most normal thing in the world. It was then the truth hit him, no-one cared, no-one was coming to his aid and as if to emphasize the point a tall, thick set man with blonde hair appeared. He led a boy a few years older than Stiles by a chain leash attached to a thick leather collar. The tawny haired boy was naked except for mittens and bootees like his, a red ball gag and black knee protectors. He crawled quickly along at his owner's side and neither spared him so much as glance. Stiles felt tears prick behind his eyes, what Derek had said was true and if he was ever going to escape, he's have to do it himself. Derek locked the tail gate and bobbed down beside him. "I told you," the wolf said quietly as he repositioned the collar, "this is your life now and the quicker you accept it, the easier it'll be." Stiles ground his teeth against the gag. "Remember, " Derek warned, "best behavior and hands down at all times. Bitches walk on all fours.."   The waiting room of the pet clinic was large, it smelt of chemicals and disinfectant, the floor was terracotta tiles and animal posters festooned the white painted walls. Many of them showed boys like Stiles with adverts for complete diets, hormone therapy, boredom buster toys, leashes, collars, harnesses, butt plugs, vitamins, training aids, shampoos, body rubs, bootees and mittens, crates, the worst turned Stiles stomach, the value and health benefits of castration, penis reduction and gender augmentation. There was a half moon reception desk with a computer and shelves behind of medicines, diets, pills and potions. The pretty, red haired receptionist looked up as they entered and smiled broadly at Derek with a flutter of her eyelashes. "Alpha Hale!" She sounded as though she didn't expect to see him. "Good to see you." "Afternoon Sherry." Derek leaned his elbows on the counter. " We have a three thirty with doc Deaton." The receptionist tapped a couple of keys. "Yeah, here you are." The details of the appointment scrolled up the screen. Sherry stood and leaned over the counter and peered down at Stiles. "New bitch, what's her name?" "Luna."   "Luna, pretty name for a pretty girl." Sherry grinned, Stiles rolled his eyes. Sherry resumed her seat. "Let's start her records....name .. Luna." She muttered to herself. "Owner?" "Me for now." Derek answered and she tapped the keys. "Same address?" "Yes." "Approximate age?" "He says sixteen but he's probably fourteen." Derek answered. "I'll put 14-16 to be covered. Any previous owners?" "No." "Any medical history?" "No." "Medical issues?" Derek pouted thoughtfully. "None that I've noticed so far." "Allergies?" "How would I know?" Derek answered somewhat impatiently. Sherry raised her head. "You could always try asking." Derek's lips thinned and Sherry ducked her head. "Just a suggestion." she murmured and then louder. "That's all for now Alpha Hale, take a seat and the doctor won't keep you waiting." She gave Derek a tremulous smile. There were seats at intervals around the outside of the room against the walls and a door to the right that bore the brass plaqueDr Alan Deaton and led to the examination room, small operating theater, recovery and hospital cages beyond. There was only one other person waiting, a slender, tall, sable haired Alpha with an aquiline nose sat nearest the door and Derek swept up a magazine from the small, round table and chose a chair diagonally opposite and as far away as possible from the bitch he had with him in case she was ill. Derek sat down pulling Stiles in close to his left leg and opened the magazine in which he had no interest whatsoever. The strange Alpha studied them, his hand moving absently though his bitch's onyx hair. "First visit?" Derek's eyes swept up. "Yes." He answered briefly not wanting to encourage conversation. "I thought so," the stranger continued, "Deaton's very good." He said casting a critical eye over Stiles. Derek grunted in reply and dropped his eyes back to the magazine. "A new bitch? Derek ground his teeth, what didn't the Alpha get about his not wanting to engage in small talk? "Yes, " Derek said without looking up, " very new." The Alpha was encouraged by Derek's reply. "I remember when I first got Rosie, it's always stressful when you first get one, but really there's no need to worry they're tougher than they look.." Derek abandoned his magazine with an irascible sigh and closed it, clearly the Alpha wasn't going to give up trying to engage him in conversation. "I'm not worried and she's not my first bitch." "Oh," the Alpha sat back."How many have you had?" "Luna's my fifteenth." Derek enjoyed the look of shock that stole over the young Alpha's face. "Fifteen? Forgive me you don't..." "Look old enough? " Derek finished for him with an amused chuckle. "I've been told that before." He relented. "I'm a trainer, I obtain and train bitches for Alpha who retain my services. Luna is my latest." The young Alpha's eyes dropped to Stiles. "She's certainly very lovely." Derek knew good manners dictate he say something about Rosie, but really what was there to say? Rosie was obviously an economy model, allowed to be far too masculine for Derek's taste. Oh, there was an attractiveness about the pale cafe au lait skin, onyx hair and sloe eyes sure enough, but the body was too angular, too much dark hair marred the skin and the muscle structure was too pronounced. Clearly from the undersized penis the bitch was castrated but had not received hormone therapy to soften the corners, give her small breasts and rid her of excess hair. Worse was the long chin and uneven jaw which completely threw off the facial symmetry and was an unforgivable flaw. Derek would never have worked with the human unless the prospective owner was willing to pay for surgery to correct the fault. The Alpha who employed him viewed bitches as status symbols and demanded perfection physically and behaviorally. He watched the Alpha's fingers comb through Rosie's hair as she gazed at Stiles and drooled around the red ball gag. "Rosie's very... Striking." Derek smiled tightly. The young Alpha's face split into a devastating grin."Thank you," his hand ruffled the bitch's hair affectionately. "I've had her two years and wouldn't be without her." The bitch looked up at him. "We're here today for her shots, you can't be too careful." At that moment the exam room door opened and a thick set black man in a white lab coat with a moustache and goatee, poked his bald head around the door. "Rosie Davenport please." The young man pushed to his feet. "Guess that's us." He jiggled the chain leash encouragingly and the bitch rose off her haunches. The black man's eyes fell on Derek and he grinned in recognition as he stepped aside to allow the young Alpha and his bitch to enter the room. "I'll be with you shortly Alpha Hale." Derek tipped his head once and smiled back. Stiles eyes rounded and brows rose in horror as he stared at Rosie's ass. It wasn't the black butt plug with the rubber tail that waved jauntily over her back as she moved that disturbed him so much as the smooth place where Rosie's balls should have been, she'd been castrated! Stiles shivered as he remembered what Derek said, he was going to do that to him! His heart hammered in his chest as he began to panic. Derek pulled his brows together and looked at Stiles with concern. "What's wrong girl?" His gaze followed where Stiles was staring and he chuckled bending forward to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry I'll never do that to you," Stiles body swept with relief, "I'll never make you wear a rubber tail...." A few minutes later Rosie and her owner reappeared, thanked the black man and went to the reception counter to settle the bill as the vet called them into the room. Derek stood and took one step toward the room, Stiles sat firmly on his haunches and refused to move, Derek looked at him with a raised brow. "Come Luna." Stiles braced his arms and pulled back, Deaton chuckled and Derek's expression hardened. "Come!" Derek repeated harshly and the choke collar tightened, the links bit into the tender skin of Stiles neck. Left to him, Derek would gladly have dragged Stiles across the floor choking all the way, but Deaton intervened. "She's scared, pick her up Alpha Hale and bring her inside." Derek gave a low growl, picked Stiles up like a piece of left luggage using the back straps of the harness and arms and legs dangling Stiles found himself effortlessly transported into the exam room, Deaton closed the door. "Straight onto the examination table please." Deaton gestured at a large, square table with a black, rubberized non slip top that dominated the center of the room. The room was larger than it appeared from the outside. In one corner was a small desk, chair and lap top computer, the walls and cupboards groaned under instruments, potions, powders, pills, bandages, syringes, dressings , medicines of all kinds and the instrumental paraphernalia of a vet come doctor, more items lay on the faux marble counter top. In another corner was a small sink and two tier trolley with a white cloth over the top tier and some kind of machine below, a door led through to the rear of the clinic, kennels and operating theater. It smelt of chemicals and disinfectant more strongly than the waiting room. Derek set Stiles on the table and secured a tight grip on his harness and collar, Deaton stood back and surveyed him critically. "So this is Luna, she's certainly very lovely, aren't you girl?" Deaton stepped forward, adopted a crooning, patronizing tone and ran his hand over Stiles skull, tutting absently. Derek shrugged. "It'll grow." "It never ceases to amaze me what young humans will do to themselves. Well now, " Deaton stepped back and gazed at Stiles intently. "Good proportions, definitely young, nearer fourteen than sixteen. Obtained from the usual sources?" "Leon." Deaton pouted. "Is he clean?" "Leon said he tested negative for STDs and no drugs except a little weed." "I'll do my own tests as usual, to be sure." Derek nodded. "She's underweight and could stand to gain seven to fourteen pounds," Deaton made an off hand gesture, "you'll soon see to that, she's likely anaemic too." He stepped to Stiles head and frowned. "How did she..." He gestured to Stiles bruised cheek. Derek pressed his lips together into a thin line. "She head-butted me and mouthed off trying to escape. Deaton tutted and sighed. "Derek I know you like to be a hands on trainer but you also know how easily it is for a werewolf to injure a human." He manipulated Stiles jaw from side to side. "Luckily you seem to have gotten away with it." There was a note of disapproval in his voice. "It was a gut reaction to being attacked," Derek replied defensively, "and I did pull my punch." Deaton responded evenly. "Which is why I recommend the use of shock collars, it looks brutal especially at the higher settings but it doesn't leave any lasting physical damage." Derek disagreed, he knew plenty of nervous, twitchy even aggressive bitches as a result of improper use of the collar for the most minor infractions where a quick slap on the ass was much better and trainers who set the collar so high, they'd inadvertently killed stubborn humans. "Well," Derek pursed his lips, "we'll agree to differ on that point, you know I generally use a collar but she hasn't had her heart tested and I didn't want her dropping down dead on me." Deaton grunted. "Valid point" Stiles bit into the rubber gag wanting to scream that he was right there, he was in the fucking room and they were talking as if he wasn't there or incapable of understanding. Deaton placed two fingers under his chin and raised his head so that Stiles was looking into his grim face. "Things will go better for you if you're a good girl and accept what's happened to you and do as Derek tells you. It's for your own good." For his own good?! Stiles felt hysteria bubble up inside him, it was obvious that not only Derek was in need of a straight jacket! Deaton saw the rebellion in Stiles eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's up to you, it won't change the outcome." He removed his fingers and let Stiles chin fall. "Very well, let's press on." His eyes lifted to Derek. "Who has commissioned her?" "Deucalion." Derek answered. "Deucalion?" Deaton frowned. "I would have thought if he wanted a bitch he'd also want the pleasure of training her himself..." Derek shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I thought so too. but apparently not. It seems he and Peter are acquainted." "That doesn't surprise me." Deaton interjected. "Anyway," Derek continued, "he had dinner at Peter's place, met Princess and was very impressed, very taken with her . Peter gave him my name and he asked me to supply a similar bitch." Deaton grunted. "Princess is very sweet, very biddable , a good looking and sexually skilled bitch, so it's not unexpected that he was taken with her. Luna here certainly has the looks but there's no guarantee she'll be as biddable or skilled." "Skill I can teach," Derek smirked "and she'll be compliant enough by the time I'm finished with her." Stiles trembled at Deaton's dark chuckle. "I don't doubt it. Shall we continue..." It wasn't a question. Derek nodded. Deaton started by pressing gently with his finger tips around Stiles bruised cheek and humming to himself when the boy winced. "Seems to be only soft tissue damage and there's no need for an Xray at this stage and even if the bone is cracked it'll heal on its own." His eyes flicked up to Derek. "You're lucky." The wolf rolled his eyes. Deaton pulled the trolley toward him and jerked the cloth away to reveal a frightening array of instruments, dressings, cotton wool, surgical spirit, KY jelly, latex gloves and syringes on the top tier. He picked up a tympanic thermometer pressing it into Stiles ear and took his temperature . " Thirty seven point three." He said mildly."That's fine." He replaced the thermometer and picked up an auriscope and looked in both Stiles ears. "No problems visually," he said as he straightened. "Do you get any ear problems?" Stiles shook his head. "Good." He replaced the auriscope on the trolley. " Remove the gag please Alpha Hale." Derek frowned and hesitated. "I don't think..." Deaton arched one brow. "I have to ask questions and it's easier if she can answer them." Reluctantly Derek unbuckled the back of the gag and it sipped from Stiles mouth. Stiles worked his aching jaw. "Just a few questions. "Do you wear spectacles?" "No." "Suffer from frequent headaches or any dizziness, double or blurred vision?" "No." "Follow my finger with your eyes, keep your head still." Deaton moved his index finger to a number of positions and Stiles eyes tracked him. Lastly he shone a bright penlight into each eye in turn to test the reaction of the pupils and then stepped back. "Without a full eye examination they seem fine, you feel as though you can see okay?" "Yes." Deaton slipped the penlight back into the breast pocket of his lab coat. "While the gag is off I'm going to examine your teeth, mouth and throat. This can go one of two ways I can use this..." He held up a wicked looking device. "It's called a Jennings Dental Mouth Gag, I'm told it's very uncomfortable." Two hinged metal frames wrapped around the front of the patient's head and had sections bent to fit between the front teeth. When spread apart, the frames separated the jaws, holding the mouth open. The desired degree of separation was set and maintained by a ratchet mechanism on one side of the frame. Stiles was horrified and is eyes widened as he shrank back until Derek caught hold of him. "Nooooo." He wailed. "Or," the vet continued, " you can keep your mouth open wide yourself, which is it to be. Hmmm?" Stiles glanced at Derek's hard and Deaton's determined faces, "I'll keep my mouth open." He whispered. "Good girl." Deaton patted his head, if he'd had the nerve Stiles would have snapped at him. As Deaton turned to drop the gag back onto the trolley, Derek whispered in Stiles ear. "Any teeth and I'll pull them out with pliers one by one." Stiles was left in no doubt that he would! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!