Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/920708.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Other_characters_mentioned_-_Freeform, Alternate_Universe_-_Fantasy,
      Sexual_Slavery, Spanking, Slavery, Master/Slave, Intersex, Alternate
      Universe_-_Dystopia, On_Hiatus
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-10 Completed: 2014-08-06 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 10716
****** We All Want To Survive... ******
by kestra_troi
Summary
     In this Fantasy World-AU, Stiles is a slave from a Human Tribe called
     the Leptosi, known for having Intersex individuals: men who can
     conceive and women who can impregnate. Stiles is one such individual
     and he gets bought by a very rich, very powerful, pain-loving Wolf
     who intends on breeding day and night. And making each time hurt more
     than the last.
     *ON PERMANENT HIATUS*
Notes
     This is chapter 1, there will be a Chapter 2. But if this turns into
     another fully fledged series I might have to cut off my hands...I
     mean for reals. I cant keep following my muse all over Gods green
     earth...or fandom. Ok...
***** One Mans Slave Is Another Mans Consort *****
Stiles jerked awake gasping and sweating from one of his nightmares. He had had
them since his mother had been murdered in front of their entire village as a
warning. The Crown would not tolerate disobedience not in one village not in
any village, so they had killed an unarmed, completely innocent pregnant woman
for the entire village to see. If they were willing to kill a woman and her
unborn child they would be willing to kill anyone. The intimidation worked.
From then on no one dared say anything even remotely disparaging of the Crown
nor did they bemoan the Tribes lowly station in the social order. We learned
our lesson alright…Stiles had thought at the time…if the Crown was willing to
kill a breeding woman, a crime under the law, they would not hesitate to do
what they wanted to the rest of us…That was how Stiles was now being sold as a
slave. The Crown had instituted slave raidings, any Human a slave merchant
could capture that wasn’t already owned could be put on the market.    
Stiles sat up as much as he could against the bars of his cage trying the
breath deeply to force the dreams away, but he felt too constrained to breath
well. The cage had been meant for someone shorter then him and smaller. He had
to keep his legs scrunched up against his body and he couldn’t even sit upright
due to the limited size of his prison.
He had always been claustrophobic and merinthophobic (afraid of being tied up).
This cage was his hell and torment in reality and his nightmares were his hell
and torment in fantasy. There was no release or relief anywhere, ever. He had
been trapped in this cage on route to the next town for four days. They were
due to arrive in just under another days travel. They would come in plenty of
time to make the next slave auction, where Stiles would again be put on sale.
This would be his fourth auction, if nobody bought him now then he would be
sold to the Crown and forced to work in the mines or the fields. Both jobs were
guaranteed death sentences. Stiles was conflicted. As much as he didn’t want to
be a slave to some stranger, he also didn’t want to die, he couldn’t. He
refused to. He berated himself for his unattractive looks and gangly body. His
half-brothers Scott and Jackson had both sold quickly in earlier auctions.
Jackson was sold to a brothel in the City of the Angels. Scott was sold to a
wealthy family in the City by the Bay to work as a groundskeeper. Their beauty
and strength had sold them for high prices, while Stiles languished.
No matter what Stiles had to somehow come across as appealing tomorrow. His
life depended on it. If he could just be sold to a liberal merchant or even a
liberal farmer, he could perhaps after years of faithful service be released.
If they are liberal in mind and progressive in action. Stiles prayed to the
Gods of Tomorrows to please bring him a kindly master, a liberal master, and
deliver him from the fields and mines. He prayed that his half-brothers would
do well and survive, even if their lives were hard and painful.
He prayed that his half-sister Lydia and his mothers were still alive and doing
well in the village. Lydia had been pregnant which was the only reason she too
had not been taken, and now that all three of her brothers were gone, she would
rule the village as Protector. Stiles prayed to the Gods that they would guide
her and help her to lead well.
He prayed for the other children that had been taken from other villages, the
ones whose names he had never learned, but the ones whose faces he could see as
clearly now as he had the moment he first saw them. He prayed that they too
would lead good lives free from pain.
Stiles clutched his sides as his body cramped, the first sign of his impending
moon-bleed. He and his sister Lydia had been on the same cycle before she got
pregnant, and now only a few months later their bond was broken, their entire
family was broken. Their father killed in cold blood, their mothers beaten and
raped, the brothers captured and sold into slavery. If Lydia hadn’t been
pregnant she would’ve been sold too, but the law was clear: a pregnant human
was to be left untouched, in order to continue the stock.
Now Stiles wished he had taken Daniel up on his offer to wed when they had both
achieved their sixteenth year. If he had he might now also be with child and
thus left to lead and repair his village and his family. But he had been
stubborn, he had wanted more out of life than just breeding. Just because he
was an Intersex didn’t mean he wanted to spend his life barefoot and pregnant
even for a man as goodly and decent as Daniel had been.
In this moment, however, Stiles prayed he could be so fortunate. He begged the
Gods to please let him be sold off to a breeding house or to a brothel or even
to a solitary master who needed a fertile womb. At this point Stiles was
willing to do whatever it took to stay alive.
He rubbed his stomach the way his mothers had taught him to relax the muscles
to relieve his cramps and continued trying to breathe deeply. Tomorrow he would
surely be bleeding. No doubt he would stand on the auction block blood dripping
down his thighs and legs, pooling at his feet. He wanted to beg his body and
the Gods to not let him bleed while being sold as only some of the people in
the Provinces outside of his Tribe condoned Intersex breeding. Stiles knew this
and prayed hard that he would not be sold to one who punished him for being
what he was. He spent the entire rest of the journey to the City on the Hill
praying and willing his body to not bleed. But his cycles had always been
regular, even more so than Lydia's and he knew that no amount of praying could
change that.
                                      ***
Derek had lived his entire life in the City on the Hill and had always enjoyed
Auction Day. Every merchant in the area would gather their wares and put them
on display. It was as close to a festival as the City had outside the Holy
Days, and that meant that Derek could buy anything he wanted.
His family had been rich and powerful forever. Their family history extended as
far back as the history of the Crown, few others could boast that. And being
the only son of one of the most powerful families in the Western Province meant
that Derek was treated with respect and awe everywhere he went. It also meant
every trader in the City would be begging for his attention and his patronage.
But on this day of days Derek had a very specific purpose in mind for his
money: he was going to buy a consort. He had already been married and mated
with his cousin Cora the year before and she had already born their first
child: a son, Mattheu. Now Derek was free to buy a consort to keep as a sex
slave, one free to keep and mate as much as he wanted and as roughly as he
wanted.
His marriage to his cousin had been arranged since her birth. She was a petite
thing, pretty too, with the family wit and inner strength. But Derek's
proclivities leaned in another direction. He wanted a boy he could dominate and
be rougher with, rougher than he dared be with his wife. He had perversions
already in mind for his consort whoever he turned out to be, ones Derek
couldn’t  take even to a brothel. He needed privacy and complete control over
his partner. Which was another issue he had with his wife: she refused to be
under his will.
While this was not unheard of among his people, after all the Wolf Clans had
always allowed women rule and fight beside their men, but Derek wasn’t one for
tradition. He wanted power and control over everything and everyone who he felt
entitled to. He thought this would include his wife, but she had made herself
clear that she would follow in the traditions of their people and live by his
side, and not behind him, like a Human slave... He couldn’t fault her for that,
so they agreed he should buy himself a slave for his possessive, homosexual,
and depraved needs.
So at midday Derek arrived at the slave auction block and prepared himself to
select another mate. The first couple of slaves were too old, already in their
twentieth years. The next few slaves were of age, but were women and Derek had
no desire for them. Then came one of the right age and sex: one called Stiles.
An odd name for sure, but one Derek was sure he could alter to suit his needs.
As the bidding started the wind shifted and Derek caught the scent of blood
coming off the slave Stiles. Derek took whiffs of the scent and realized it was
blood, moon-blood to be specific. A smell he was all too familiar with.
His family had based their fortunes on breeding farms for Humans. Derek had
always planned to open up a Wolf breeding farm, to help re-supply the Province
and Kingdom with Wolf soldiers. After all, war was always a possibility in
these days and the last war had been devastating for the Wolf Clans in terms of
loss of life. Having a breeding farm could take care of that. 
Derek bid on the boy, who looked astonished that someone was bidding and at
such a price: five gold pieces. Jackson had gone for three gold pieces and
Scott for two gold pieces and twelve bars of silver. Five gold pieces was a lot
of money, more than anyone including Stiles thought he was worth, so without a
second's delay the slave trader banged his gavel and sold Stiles to Derek Hale,
Governor of the Western Province.
When Derek retrieved the boy after paying, the boy looked and smelled…relieved
as he gazed at the ground beneath him. Protocol demanded he never look directly
into his master's eyes, it would be a challenge to their power, so Stiles
looked solely at his feet as Derek examined him.
"Have you been bred before?" Derek asked giving Stiles' ass a squeeze and
fingering his slightly bloody hole.
"No sir, Master Derek."
"Have you been breached before?" Stiles blushed and again answered in the
negative. 
"Good…" Derek proclaimed, happy with his selection. "Then it will hurt you all
the more to be breached by my cock and my knot." Derek leaned in took Stiles'
face in one of his hands, bringing their faces close together. "I am going to
hurt you, little one. A lot. Over and over. I'm going to make you bleed, and
bruise, and scream…and I am going to breed you, continuously. From now on your
life will be dedicated to my pleasure and to my desires. Get on your knees!"
Derek commanded as he pushed Stiles' face away from him. Stiles complied crying
as he did so knowing what was coming.
"That’s right, cry for me little one…scream for me as you receive my mark…your
master's mark…"
And Stiles did scream as the branding iron was pressed against his back between
his shoulders, a triskelion, the Hale Tribe mark, along with Derek's own
personal mark were burned into his flesh forever. Stiles crumbled to the ground
fainting from the overwhelming pain.
                                      **
When Stiles awoke he was naked, alone and sweating in a bed. Was it all a
dream? But he instantly knew that it hadn’t been: he could feel his master's
mark on his back. The pain was dull, but it also itched which made it all the
worse. He wished there was a mirror in the small yet well-kept room but from
what he could tell there wasn’t. There was a bookcase, two doors, a chair, a
bedside table, and a bureau, but no mirror.
How long have I been asleep? He wondered, automatically stretching his body
unthinkingly, pain shot up his spine and made his mark throb all the more. Its
like another heartbeat…Stiles stilled, turned on his side to face the wall, and
simply laid down on the bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
He had been laying still off in his own mind for ten or fifteen minutes when he
heard a voice outside the door and then he heard someone enter the room. He
recognized the voice as his new master's and bit his lip to keep from talking.
A slave never initiates conversation with their betters...
Other childhood memories filtered into his thoughts as his master slowly walked
towards the bed. He remembered attending school and balking at learning the
proper protocol for being a slave. Why bother…he had thought…I'm a child of the
Protector… no ones going to take me…He realized now the wisdom of his Tribal
elders who had mandated that all children learn the ways of all the Clans and
Tribes in case of capture and enslavement.
The more you know, the more you will survive…his mother had said when he
complained about the slavery lessons…and survival is what we all want…
His master was now standing beside the bed, his hands feather-light were
roaming up Stiles' body along his ribs before resting near his mark. "You are
healing very well Genim. Very well. I'm pleased."
Stiles knew enough Lycannic to know that Genim was not a typical slave-name. If
he remembered rightly –geni meant something like "spark" or "light" or
"lightening", unusual name for a slave. From what Stiles had learned from his
elders slave-names were typically meant to demean a slave, remind them of their
place. He could live with being called Genim.
"Thank you Master."
"You had me worried for a moment Genim. Four whole days of unconsciousness I'm
going to have to punish you for that Genim."
"Yes, Master." Stiles said as he kept himself from flinching as his new master
lightly touched his still aching mark.
"My Tribal mark looks so pretty on you Genim…so very pretty alongside my own
mark…" Stiles couldn’t help himself from blushing, unaccustomed as he was to
compliments. Nothing about Stiles was ever described as pretty.
"Thank you, Master." Stiles responded sincerely.
"Are you thanking me for my compliment or my mark, Genim?"
"Both sir…" and he quickly added, "but mostly for your mark." Derek made a
rumbling sound in the back of his throat and his touch became more forceful.
Stiles couldn’t stop himself from tensing and whimpering softly at the touch.
"So…you like my mark do you? You like being mine."
The last bit hadn’t been a question, but Stiles answered anyway. "Yes, sir.
Thank you for marking me, sir." Though in his mind he went further: thank you
for saving me…saving me from the fields and mines…I owe you my life…I will
serve you well…thank you for buying me…claiming me…Stiles blushed at this last
thought as he recalled the very specific meaning Wolves attached to the idea of
claiming. In that sense he hadn’t been claimed at all, not yet anyway…
"You look pretty when you blush Genim. Tell me what made you blush." Stiles
hesitated a moment, opened his mouth and stuttered, "I…I…Ah-" He blushed even
darker red embarrassed by the idea of his thoughts and body being laid out
naked for his master. Derek reiterated softly, yet more forcefully "Tell me
Genim. There is no shame in honesty."
Stiles gulped and then admitted to his master what he had been thinking about
that made him blush so deeply. "Claiming… Master…I remembered that…that it
means something different to…for Wolves…and I thought of my debt to you…for
marking me…and--"
"And your mind went immediately to claiming." Derek finished his consort's
sentence for him and Stiles blushed anew. While Stiles had always thought of
sex, his Tribe was more conservative in their ways. Unlike some other Human
Tribes, the Leptosi Tribe Stiles hailed from practiced abstinence until the age
of adulthood, sixteen. Stiles readily accepted the notion once he realized that
in some other Tribes the moment puberty hit you were expected to mate and
breed. He was relieved his Tribe was different and once he reached sixteen he
had even decided to wait longer before taking a spouse.
Stiles had figured he would wait a couple years maybe dabble in un-bonded sex
before taking a spouse for life. He always knew that Daniel would be there,
waiting for him until he was ready to wed. He is such a patient man…I suppose
now he'll wed someone else…he'll give his seed to someone else to carry…
someone not stupid like me…someone smart enough to not look a gift diamond
askance or askew…The thoughts of someone else with Daniel made Stiles want to
sob. That someone else would get to lead the life he now realized he had
wanted. The life he always figured was ahead for him: wedding Daniel, sharing
our lives together, bearing his children...
Stiles bit back his tears and sobs and answered his waiting master with a
wavering voice, "Yes Master. I'm sorry Master."
Derek petted his consort, "Shhhhh, Genim…I'm not upset with you. I will claim
you in the tradition of my people I plan on breeding you as much as I breed my
wife. And I expect you to be honest with me Genim when I ask for it. When I ask
a question you answer. Understood?"
Stiles calmed under his master's ministrations, "Yes Master…" he said steadying
his voice, "I understand."
"Good Genim…good. Oh yes…I am most assuredly going to claim you…claim you in
the ways of my people…once you’ve fully recovered…the practice of claiming is a
painful one for the sub…" Stiles nodded his understanding as Derek continued,
"…for the moment I believe its time for your first punishment. Come sit between
my legs and put your face to my stomach."
Derek moved away and sat in the only chair in the room, that was across from
the bed almost tucked away in the corner. He took off his simple (poncho-esque)
top and sat with his legs open wide, while Stiles turned to face the room. Once
his master was seated Stiles hurriedly obeyed and knelt between his master's
legs, pressing his face into his master's stomach.
He remembered from his schooling that Wolves are more physical and tactile than
his own Tribe, and that four areas are considered sacrosanct: the wrists, the
neck, the stomach and the thighs. For his master to bare his stomach and allow
him to be near it was a sign of trust. He's trusting me to be good…to not try
and hurt him…though he is massive, he could probably kill me with a single
move…I'm a child compared to him…
Then Stiles was struck with an epiphany…there is no escape…he will never let me
go… this is going to be my life until he tires of me and sells me…or kills me
or puts me to work elsewhere…he's a Wolf…they're known for their possessiveness
and territoriality…he never could let me go…
Part of Stiles wanted to cry and shake and try to run away. But another side of
him realized that, that would merely make his new master angry, make him punish
me more and harder…he's Governor of the Province…where could I go even if I did
manage to escape? The rational side of his mind won out probably for the first
time in his life: This is my life now…its better than the fields…at least
nothing awful can happen to me…other than what my master does to me…he plans on
breeding me which means he won't kill me…not unless I prove infertile…
Stiles mind froze for a moment in terror. What if I'm barren? What if he can't
get me with child? Pups…they call them pups here…What if I fail? He won't need
me if I can't be bred…So Stiles decided that the best course of action was to
try and please his master and exceed any expectations placed on him. If he
wants me submissive, then I will be submissive…if he wants me to scream I will
scream…If he wants a child off me, then I'll give two…or three…or however many
I can force out of me…Stiles slowly rubbed his face against his master's
stomach growing bolder when Derek didn’t stop him. He even took a few
exploratory licks and was rewarded with a hand carded through is hair, grabbing
his scalp gently.
"I see you’ve received some training in the ways of my people."
Stiles answered making sure to keep his nose nuzzling his master's belly as his
mouth responded, "Yes Master. All the children of my Tribe are taught the
basic…behaviors for slaves… in all the Clans and Tribes." 
"Smart…to prepare your youth for the lives that lay before them as slaves…it's
very wise of your elders. Is that what you call them? Your Elders?"
"Yes Master."
Derek paused a moment to process, then he moved on, "Put your hands on the
floor beneath me and raise your ass Genim." Stiles complied silently guessing
what his punishment was going to be.
"I'm going to give you…five slaps, for each of the four days you spent
recuperating: twenty in total. This will hurt, Genim. Remember to breathe
deeply throughout."
"Yes sir." Stiles whispered as he remembered that scent was another important
facet of Wolf culture. He wants me to get familiar with his scent…Stiles
deduced…otherwise we would do this in a different position…Stiles took one last
lick and nuzzle of his master's stomach as he lowered his head and raised his
ass. His face ended up in Derek's crotch and as he pushed his ass out as far as
he could he made a point of breathing deeply.
Derek spoke as he began to rub his new consort's ass, "In the future I will
have you count your punishments, but not today. Today I want to do the talking
and I want you to listen. Understood?" Stiles nuzzled his master's crotch to
express his understanding.
"Good, Genim <smack>…you are doing so well <smack>… I'm very pleased with you
<smack>…I want you to know what I expect of you <double smack>…You are my
consort. <smack> I'm married a year and already a father…<double smack>…as the
only son of my family <smack>…I am expected to breed much and often <double
smack>…you are a part of that goal now <triple smack>…" Stiles couldn’t keep
himself from whimpering from his master's spankings, and he nuzzled all the
harder on his master's growing erection.
Derek smacked his ass again harder, "Genim, hush!" Then Derek began to pet
Stiles' ass soothingly for just a moment. "You are my slave…I expect total
obedience. <smack> I am going to hurt you…<smack>…I am going to mark you up
<smack>…and I am going to claim you…" Derek smacked his slave's ass two final
times harder than the rest. He could feel Stiles biting down on his pant's
material trying to keep quiet.
Derek decided to let that go. "Put your head and shoulders on the ground Genim,
I want to see your redness up close."
Stiles obeyed and the moment his top was on the ground his ass was in the air.
Derek lifted his boy's body up so that Stiles' ass was close to his face. Derek
nuzzled the red ass in front of him and felt the warmth of Stiles' reddening
skin. "You mark up so beautifully Genim."
Derek placed little kisses around Stiles' ass. "Thank you Master." Stiles
nearly moaned out. No one had ever touched him like this before.
"You're welcome Genim." Derek muttered as he placed one last kiss directly on
Stiles' pucker. Stiles couldn’t hold back his groan at the feel of his master's
tongue teasing his hole. Stiles shuddered as the tongue entered him briefly
before Derek pulled away.
"That’s enough for today Genim." Derek said giving Stiles' ass a playful smack
as he lowered Stiles' body to the ground. "Today you are not to leave this
room, Genim. In fact…" Derek took a moment to think, "in fact until I say
otherwise you are to remain in this room. For no reason are you to leave it. Am
I clear?"
"Yes Master." Stiles whimpered into the ground, ashamed that his only thoughts
were of his master touching him, tonguing him again. 
"For now you are to rest. Tomorrow I will return and I will give your body a
thorough exploration. Following that I will begin instructing you on how to
serve me and my needs. The chamber pot is through this door…" Derek pointed at
the smaller one next to the bookcase. "I will have Isaac bring up your meals. I
have arranged for him to be your body servant. He will help you dress, wash,
and prepare yourself for me. He's the son of our former stable-master, his
whole life he has been a slave…Sit on your knees Genim and look me in the
eyes…"
Stiles didn’t hesitate to sit up on his knees, but the looking directly into
his master's eyes did give him pause. Derek sensed this, "Its alright Genim. I
give you my permission this once."
Stiles took no more commanding and looked for the first time into his new
master's eyes. He was struck by their color: a sharp hazel-green. While he
looked on agog they shifted color from hazel-green to a blue so vivid Stiles
had never seen the like.
"You are my slave and he is my slave. How you two interact is of no consequence
to me. He will serve you only as I command it you are not his master. He knows
his place and everything you say and do he will tell me. He will do his duty to
obey me, but don’t expect more than that. He is not nearly as verbose as I
am…his father saw to that…"
Stiles curiosity was piqued but he bit his lip to hold in his questions, but
Derek noticed and answered the unasked question. "His father pierced his
tongue. He's sensitive about it and since he does his work well I have seen no
reason to torment him with it. I suggest you do the same…Now, look away Genim."
Stiles averted his eyes as Derek took a few steps back near him. His master
took ahold of Stiles' face, turned it, and left a love-bite on Stiles' neck.
Stiles gasped and his body tingled with goosebumps. Derek whispered in his
slave's ear, "In less than one month's time Genim I am going to claim you."
Derek licked at the reddening mark he just made making Stiles tremble and his
heart race, before he continued, "I am going to claim you when you are at your
most fertile and your most sensitive."
Derek then released Stiles and left the room closing the door behind him as his
words slowly sunk into Stiles' addled mind. He shuddered in expectation…he
truly is a sadist…he wants our first time to hurt and serve a purpose…how am I
going to survive this man…?Stiles' mind might have been questioning but his
body had the answer. If Stiles had any self-awareness at all, or if he hadn’t
been so distracted by the handsomeness of his new master, he would’ve realized
that his cock was erect and throbbing at his speculations of pain. His claiming
me is going to hurt…
***** Claiming What Was Sown, Claiming What You Own *****
Chapter Summary
     This chapter spans the claiming ceremony and the delivery of Stiles'
     pups.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles claiming ceremony took place starting in the afternoon. And Stiles was
right it did hurt, a lot, but by the time the claiming took place Stiles had
already adapted to the pain. Derek isn’t a monster…he didn’t rape me…but he did
get me used to his style of pain… Derek wasn’t evil, but he did like to hurt
Stiles: first it started with the spankings, they happened almost daily in the
afternoon following Derek’s stint as the regional judge. After Stiles got
accustomed to the spankings Derek moved on to scratching, sniffing, and
licking. Every area of skin except his genitals had been subjected to Derek’s
attention. Following this came the biting. It wasn’t hard enough to break the
skin, but enough to bruise Stiles all over.
As the claiming ceremony got closer, Stiles body was already preparing. His
flow started three days before. While Derek was giving him his daily spanking,
his flow just trickled out. Derek being a Wolf noticed instantly, stopped the
spanking, to the slight irritation of Stiles who often came just from that, to
finger the trickle to it source and lap it up. Derek’s tongue in his most
private place made Stiles toes curl and he came all over his own face and
chest. Derek of course had to punish Stiles for cumming without permission and
was given chores in the mansion to do instead of being allowed to wait until
after the claiming to begin work.
"You are a slave after all Genim, and until you provide work for me in my bed,
you will provide work for me in my house." So Stiles job was to clean the
floors and windows on the second floor of his master’s house. It wasn’t too
difficult a job and it was one that Derek could freely interrupt when he wanted
to "train" Stiles.
The eve before the ceremony, Stiles flow increased and Derek lapped it up like
he had each of the previous days. And like each of the previous days, Stiles
was so sensitive he came just from Derek’s tongue. Derek had already assigned
Stiles chores, so the next time he came he had to get Derek off only by sucking
his cock. Not an easy feat when the man receiving is so well self-controlled he
could keep from cumming for hours. Stiles’ jaw ached for hours.
The following day when again Stiles couldn’t stop himself from cumming his
punishment came as chains, a blindfold, a gag and some wax. It was the one
thing Derek did that Stiles hated, he simply could not enjoy having hot wax
being dripped on his body. Derek knew this and used it to reinforce Stiles’
good behavior: "I see how you don’t enjoy this Genim, so now if you disobey me
this will be part of your punishment. Do you agree?"
With a gag on all Stiles could say was, "Ahhhhh eeeeehhhh."
Derek smiled, "Good Genim, I am greatly pleased with your obeisance. As a
reward I am going to spend all of tomorrow preparing you myself for the
ceremony."
Which is how Stiles came again on the eve of his claiming, with his master
licking up his flow, so the final punishment was that Stiles had to wear a cock
ring until Derek stated otherwise,
"Perhaps even through the ceremony if you can’t control yourself any better."
Stiles readily assured his master that he would control himself that he would
be good. Stiles spent the rest of that day in pain and pleasure as Derek spread
him and stretched him inserting various items: a tongue, fingers, toys made of
glass, into Stiles to prepare him. All the while Stiles was extremely sensitive
and aching for release, but not allowed to cum. His cock was hard the entire
day Derek toyed him and the rest of the evening as Stiles went about his chores
with a toy inside him. "That toy best be inside you tomorrow Genim, or I will
break you."
Stiles shuddered with the threat and hastily assured his master that it would
be there, that he would keep it there. And he did. Once the ceremony got
started Stiles walked into the appointed room naked except his master’s mark on
his back and his master’s toy in his ass.
                                       *
Stiles’ claiming hurt, it hurt immensely. Derek nipped, bit, scratched, clawed,
jabbed, and stabbed into Stiles making him bleed from head to toe. All this
while being fucked incessantly and not allowed to cum.
After a ten minute respite, following the first-taking, Derek started by
tonguing Stiles, licking up his flow as Stiles slurped noisily on Derek’s cock
attempting to cover the behemoth in as much saliva as possible since that, the
cum already inside him, and his flow would be all the lubrication he got. When
he was ready Derek flung Stiles on the bed and flipped him so his ass was in
the air and he breached him in one go. Stiles screamed at the intrusion sure to
his utter humiliation that the entire household heard him and the noises he was
making. They’ll know…know what a slut I am for him…know what a whore I am for
the pain…Stiles had never thought of himself as being a masochist and maybe he
hadn’t been one before Derek got his hands and claws on him and in him, because
now he surely was. 
He tried to make it good for his master: spreading his legs wider, tilting his
ass to meet his master’s thrusts, clenching around his master’s cock, moaning
for him, crying for him, screaming for him.
"That’s right Genim scream for me! Let me hear how much it hurts!" Stiles
screamed until his voice was hoarse and none of it was for show he truly was in
pain. Derek was fucking him rough, clawing at his body even as he thrusted,
smacking Stiles’ ass, nipping and biting when it suited him. But through it all
Stiles remained hard and aching for release.
Then Stiles felt his master’s cock stiffen and grow even larger inside him. He
sighed thinking…now…soon it will be over…But he was wrong. Derek kept thrusting
and as he did so his knot kept pushing it against Stiles’ hole, before Derek
took the final plunge, his knot punching past Stiles’ rim. Stiles yelled and
screamed as Derek bit down hard on his shoulder, so hard he broke the skin. So
hard Stiles could feel the blood gushing out of him.
Meanwhile in the midst of this pain and the thrashing around it caused Derek’s
knot pushed against something inside Stiles that made Stiles’ eyes to roll back
in his head and an unearthly low moan spring out of him. Of course Derek took
notice and in an instant decided to be merciful to his new consort and Derek
removed the cock ring Stiles had been commanded to wear.
With the cock ring now removed Stiles was still aching and begged his master,
"Please! Please! Master! Please!"
"Touch yourself Genim, while I’m knotted to you… Feel how good it is to be
mine… For me to fill you up…"
Wasting no time, "Thank you Master! Thank you! THANK YOU! URGH! THAAAANNK
YOOOOOU!! MASTER!!" Spots danced before his eyes as Stiles jerked off with
Derek swiveling his hips moving his knot keeping it rubbing and pressing
against Stiles’ prostate. Not five strokes in and Stiles was cumming hard on
the bed. He felt light-headed and his vision swam as his body convulsed and
tensed before he collapsed in a heap from exhaustion.
Derek growled and wrapped his arms around his slave and brought Stiles up so
Stiles’ back was against his own chest. He could hear his slaves heartbeat
still frantic, but slowly returning to normal. Derek licked his bite on Stiles’
shoulder with his tongue, he nuzzled and scrapped it with his stubbled chin,
making Stiles shudder and clench around his master’s cock and knot.
"You’re mine Genim..." Derek cooed in Stiles’ ear as Stiles lolled his head on
Derek’s shoulder woozy either from the intensity of his orgasm or from the
blood lose from his shoulder, or both. All Stiles could see in his delirious
vision was his master’s blood stained chin. His brain unable to process the
sight or what his master was saying, all he did was moan as Derek continued.
"You’re mine now…No other Wolf will touch you…no other Man will ever have you,
now that you’re used…you and your body are mine, Genim."
    Stiles leaned his head against his master’s jaw and nuzzled weakly more on
instinct than reason. Though his mind was a pool of jizz on the bed he did
manage to say three words: "Yes…yes… Master…"
"Good Genim…" Derek praised as he laid a kiss on his consort…our first kiss…
"You’re such a good boy Genim…such a good slave…I chose you well…" A part of
Stiles’ mind tried to rebel against being called a "good slave", but he was too
tired to care especially as his master wrapped his arms around Stiles’ body and
placed his hands just below Stiles’ stomach.
"Feel that Genim…? My seed inside you…filling you up…" Stiles looked down even
though it made him dizzy and he did see where his master’s hands rested on him
a bulge. He could see the bulge and even feel it but it wasn’t real to him
until he raised his own hand to the little bulge. He gasped when he touched
it…cum…his seed…inside me…his pups…his pups will be there…his pups that I will
bear…that I want to bear…
Stiles later would be shocked by his thoughts and even more so his actions. As
he thought about bearing his master’s pups and looking forward to it Stiles
nuzzled his master’s face and even licked some of his own blood off his
master’s chin. "Thank you Master…" Stiles whispered wantonly as he shifted a
leg and felt his master’s knot shift as well. "…Ahhhh…" he groaned, "Thank you
Master..."
Derek looked down on his slave and chuckled. "You’re welcome Genim. You’re very
welcome…" Derek took Stiles’ hair in his hand and pulled him up to plant one
last kiss on his consort. Stiles opened his mouth and groaned as his master
took his mouth even nipping at his lips. Then Derek swiveled his hips causing
his knot to move.
"Ahhhh…" Stiles groaned again as he clenched and tensed trying to still his
master’s movements even as his master’s kiss got fiercer and deeper.
"Please…please…Master…"
Derek pulled away and released Stiles head, "Shhhhhh, Genim. No words…no more
words." So Stiles bit his lip as Derek knotted him and bred him numerous more
times before finally withdrawing and allowing Stiles a rest. It was early
evening when Derek withdrew from Stiles and the room saying over his shoulder,
"I am going to eat and then tend to some business. I will be back tonight
Genim, to finish. I’ll send for Isaac to tend you in the mean time…" But Stiles
didn’t hear any of it, as he was already unconscious.   
                                       *
Stiles didn’t remember Isaac coming in and tending to him or Isaac leaving. He
didn’t remember Derek returning or how man times Derek had fucked him again
after the break. The next morning when Stiles really woke up sore, bruised,
marked, and leaking he hardly remembered anything except the fragments of pain,
flashes of pleasure and his master’s voice whispering to him. You are so
beautiful Genim…filled with my cum…so pretty all undone by my knot…ass so
tight…meant to be taken…bruised… stretched…Stiles woke up to the feeling of
something being inside him, a tongue. When Stiles turned he was more than a
little surprised to see Isaac lapping at the mix of cum, blood, and flow
pouring out of Stiles’ ass.
Isaac looked up at him and answered the anticipated question, "Mafteh Dewek
saih I hah to lih-ck ooh cleeh."
Stiles blushed embarrassed that Isaac felt the need to explain orally when he
knew how much speaking hurt Isaac. "Thank you Isaac…I…I’m sorry you have to do
that…"
Isaac shrugged and leaned back down to finish his task, silently. Now that
Stiles was awake he could focus on the fact of how numb his ass was and how he
could barely feel Isaac’s tongue inside him. "Did Master say if I could bathe?"
          Isaac made a sound in his throat that Stiles had come to learn meant
no. Stiles wanted to ask if that meant no Derek didn’t say or no he couldn’t
bathe, but he didn’t want to embarrass Isaac anymore than he already had. He’s
too sweet to hurt…his father must have been a monster to do that to his
son…Even as Isaac licked at him Stiles could just make out the piece of metal
forever embedded in Isaac’s tongue…that one little piece of metal that makes it
so humiliating for him to speak…that one little piece of metal and his life
will never be the same…he will never recover…
Stiles moved unthinking and winced as pain shot through him from all over his
body. He gasped with shock and Isaac pulled away. They looked into each other’s
eyes and an understanding passed between them. He bears his mark in his mouth…I
carry mine inside me…we both suffer…we will both always suffer…Stiles looked
away first and let out a soft cry as Isaac made to leave.
"Sowy S-ile-s…" Isaac whispered making Stiles cry harder. "I’m sorry too
Isaac…" he blubbered out, "I’m sorry too…"   
                                      ***
If Stiles thought the claiming was painful, or that the pregnancy that followed
was rough, then he had another thing coming when the time for delivery came
around.
Derek had decided they would birth the pups in the traditional Wolf manner, as
they were half Wolf. So once Stiles’ water broke he was rushed into the
birthing chamber. Normally a Wolf woman giving birth would’ve been staying in
the birthing chamber for a lying-in in the last moon of her pregnancy, but
Derek had decided to forego that custom. He wanted control over Stiles
throughout the pregnancy…this way he won’t forget his place… maybe I have
gotten too lax with the rules…seeing him pregnant, smelling him, hearing those
pups’ hearts…Derek shook his head…makes it too easy to think of him like he’s
my mate…even Cora when she was pregnant didn’t elicit this much pride…its
probably because he’s carrying four…four of my pups in his belly…I chose him
and I chose well…So Derek had refused to let Stiles have a lying-in at all, he
had to continue doing his chores around the mansion regardless of how ill he
felt or how slow he waddled. Stiles had been washing the windows on the second
floor, when his water broke all over the floors he had just washed. Annoyed
Stiles spent some time re-cleaning the floors before making his way to Isaac to
tell him about it, so that he could get Derek, so they could both go to the
birthing chamber.
The birthing chamber itself was large for what it was, at least in Stiles’
opinion, but then again it was designed so the lying-in, the delivery, the
afterbirth, and the first month or two of the recovery could take place all in
one space. It had vaulted ceilings so the screams could travel. Among the
Wolves it was thought that the louder a woman screamed the stronger her pups
would be. Stiles didn’t understand it, but he had no choice.
The removable portions of the roof had been removed and it helped keep the
place aerated, plus it was a ceremonial tradition. Wolves in ancient times gave
birth in the outdoors. If the woman or her pups and/or her mate weren’t strong
enough to survive alone in the outdoors, then they weren’t needed in Wolf
society. Luckily for Stiles the times had changed and now whether or not he
could survive out in the wilderness had no bearing on his pups’ futures.
For the modern Wolf birthing, it was customary for the father to hold the
mother (or Intersex father as was the case here.) "Wolf women give birth
upright," was the mantra he heard throughout his pregnancy and Stiles had
internally balked at the idea, but it wasn’t his decision.
So here he was, pushing out a pup, holding himself upright. Derek was behind
him holding his knees so his legs were up and spread, so the midwife had access
to everything she needed to access. Stiles’ hands were twisted in two tethers
dangling from the ceiling, which Stiles held in order to hold himself upright
with throughout the delivery. Fuck upright!! He was thinking as he screamed
through another contraction.
Sweat was pouring off Stiles like he was standing on the surface of both the
Suns at once. The midwife kept yelling, "Push! Push! Boy! PUSH!!"
Stiles being Stiles screamed back, "I AM!! AHHHHHHH!" As another contraction
ripped itself through Stiles’ body. When it passed Derek muttered in Stiles’
ear a warning, "Genim."
Stiles knew that tone so he immediately started apologizing as yet another
contraction ripped through him. "I’m sorry! I’m SORRY! IM SORRY!!! IMMMM
SOORRRRRYYY! IM SSSSOOOOORRRY!!!!! Master, Please! I’m sorry." Stiles huffed
and puffed, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, like his pups had stolen
everything out of him, even his breathe.
"These pups are TEARING ME APART!" Stiles tried to explain as another
contraction came on him. "AHHHHHHH!!" Stiles couldn’t really focus on anything
besides the pain but he thought he heard his master say, "I know…" with an
almost satisfied quality in his voice.
"I have the head! One final push boy! One more! One more!" Stiles’ body didn’t
really give him a say in the matter as a contraction hit and Stiles bore down,
pushing out the first pup. A pup whose yelling and screaming was almost as loud
as Stiles’ own.
Stiles was thrilled and exhausted. He slouched against his master’s body and
rested his head a moment on Derek’s shoulder as the midwife’s assistants took
the squealing pup to another corner of the room to wash and clean him. "It’s a
boy Genim." Derek whispered in his ear, as Stiles turned his head to see where
they had taken his pup.
"Can I see him? Can I hold him? Please?!" Stiles begged momentarily forgetting
that he wasn’t anywhere near done with the delivery.
"When you’re done birthing his brothers and sisters Genim then you can hold
him. Perhaps."
"Thank you….uuuuugggggghhhh….Master." Stiles stammered as a shiver passed
through him. Despite everything Derek had ever done to him, this moment of
giving birth made Stiles feel more exposed than ever before. Stiles heard his
pup calling for him, screaming with his newborn lungs like bloody murder. I’ll
be right there ThomasLucian…Stiles thought wishing to reach his baby
telepathically…I’ll be right there…
Stiles wanted to name his first-born boy Thomas after his own father, but he
knew Derek had other plans. His first-born boy with Cora had been named after
their shared grandfather Mattheu, so Derek planned to name his first-born boy
with Stiles after his own father: Lucian. There was no room for discussion.
Thomas will be Lucian…maybe if I have another boy he will let me name him…?
Stiles wanted to have a say, but knew in his heart of hearts that he was just
the carrier for his master’s pups and under the law had no claim to them and no
right to name them. The only rights I have are the ones my master gives
me…Stiles wanted to beg right then and there to get to name at least one of his
pups, but then a contraction hit.
                                       *
The second birth went much like the first: yelling, screaming, blinding pain,
more yelling and screaming. But this time Stiles delivered a girl. Stiles
actually got a glimpse of this one, and in that instant in his heart he named
her Janescka after his own mother, knowing she would be named Varina in honor
of Derek’s grandmother.  
                                       *
The third birth was harder than the first two and took longer as well. Stiles
writhed in pain as his contractions kept washing over him again and again with
what felt like no rest period. But finally after pushing for what seemed like
hours, the pup arrived and it too was a girl. Stiles felt woozy and lightheaded
he had to rest his head on Derek’s shoulder, he didn’t have a choice.
He mumbled, "I have…I have…I have to rest…my arms…I can’t hold…hold on…" Stiles
wanted to let go of the tethers that he was being forced to grip through the
birth, though they did nothing for him.
"Genim," Derek warned, "if you let go of those tethers I will not let you hold
those pups. Its tradition and you will follow through with it."
A surge of anger ripped through Stiles. He wouldn’t DARE keep me from MY
PUPS!He thought, but then his rational mind caught up with his emotional one.
He WOULD dare…according to the law those are HIS pups…not mine…He can do what
he wants with them and with me…Stiles whimpered as his forced the anger deep
inside him and a hard determination took over his features. I have to hold
those pups…I have to be a part of their lives…which means I have to hold on to
these damn tethers! He wrapped those tethers around his hands, tangling them up
to the point he doubted if they would be able to cut him out of them. He
gritted his teeth and pulled himself upright as best he could, as beyond
exhausted as he was, and he waited for the last birth.
                                       *
He didn’t have to wait long and fortunately for him this last birth was easier
than even the first two had been. It was another boy. Two girls and two boys,
four pups in all.
"You’ve done well Genim." Derek congratulated. "You’ve given me two fine sons
and two beautiful daughters. All healthy, even my wife hasn’t done as much."
Which was true, she was currently carrying their second child, another single-
birth. The prediction was that it would be a girl, or so went the healers’
gossip. But Stiles didn’t care about any of that he just wanted to hold at
least one of his pups.
As Stiles tried to detangle himself from the tethers he pleaded, "Can I hold
one of them, master? Please?" Stiles laid his head on his master’s shoulder
breathing deeply, amidst his begging. Derek stood there silently holding his
extremely tired and dirtied consort. Stiles was so out of his body exhausted he
wasn’t paying the least attention to his master, he was straining to see one of
his pups. Any of them…all of them…just one…please Gods let him please let me
hold just one…PLEASE!! Stiles whimpered a little before he caught himself.
Whining won’t help my case with Derek…nothing will…Stiles steeled himself or at
least tried to…all that matters is his mood…and how giving he decides to be…
Another surge of hate and anger that he couldn’t control shot through Stiles.
He was hateful and angry at the fact that he couldn’t even hold his own
children without the permission of their father. Hateful and angry that he
couldn’t name them himself with the names of his family, of his Tribe. Hateful
and angry that for the rest of their lives he would mean as little to them if
not less than he meant to their father. To them I’ll just be another slave in
their father’s house…one that they will be ashamed to share a blood-link
with…one they will be made to feel ashamed to come from…Gods I hate him! I hate
this! I hate everything!!
Then Derek brushed his chin against Stiles’ face and whispered in his ear, "You
can hold Petro, this last boy, until the wet nurse takes him."
Stiles sighed with relief and also sadness. His breasts which had swollen and
begun lactating for his pups ached at the thought that someone else would be
breastfeeding them. But focus on the small victories Stiles…He tried to tell
himself…at least I get to hold one…however briefly…
One of the midwife’s assistants brought Petro and placed him in Stiles’ finally
untangled arms. He looked down on the still slightly bloody, rosy pink baby in
his arms and tears welled up in his eyes.
He gushed, "Hello…Petro…you are so beautiful…" Stiles began crying as his baby
boy softly gurgled and whimpered. Stiles looked around him wanting to share
this moment with somebody, with anybody, with everybody, but no one was paying
him any mind. They were all focused on their duties and the other pups, and
overtly, disrespectfully ignoring the slave who just bore them.
The only other person paying attention to them was Derek, but even he seemed
removed from the scene as far as Stiles was concerned. Though he is still
holding me up…and all on his own… Wolves, and their strength… And despite his
earlier anger and hatred towards Derek, in this moment he wanted Derek
involved. He wanted to look Derek in the eyes and share a knowing smile.
He wanted Derek to grin from ear to ear and hold them both close and coo
compliments about their beautiful son into his ear. Daniel would’ve done
that…Stiles thought fleetingly…he would’ve waited outside the delivery tent
like a proper father…he would’ve let me name OUR children…and he would’ve held
me in his arms…unashamedly in love with me and our son…he would’ve whispered
sweet things…he would’ve told me he loved me…he would’ve loved me…Stiles eyes
welled up now for a completely different reason. His eyes welled up because
that wasn’t his life, would never be his life. He would never have a husband to
love and look after him. He would never have a spouse to raise his children
with. He would never have love in his life again. All of that was taken from
him, and he would never get it back. All he had now was a master and a body
servant and if he behaved he might sometimes get to hold his pups or maybe if
he was lucky look at them directly in the eyes.
Looking down on his child, his newborn boy, Stiles could see the future he
reasoned they probably would have together: he would never acknowledge me…I
would be an embarrassment…a shameful accident of birth…born of a slave…he would
never look at me full faced…he would never truly know me…never see me…In that
moment Stiles could no longer bear to look at his son. He couldn’t bear to see
what was to come or worse what might have been. Though his body ached to pull
the child close to his breast and suckle him and never let him go, his mind was
already trying to push him away. Push him away before I connect with him any
more than I already have…it’ll make it easier if I don’t love him so much
now…it’ll make it easier…But Stiles already did love his son, all of his pups
and he hadn’t even gotten a solid look at all of them.
Stiles composed himself and said, "Thank you Master, for letting me hold him. I
think I’m…I think…I think my afterbirth is starting…" The midwife came over,
took the baby from Stiles’ arms, and handed him off to one of her assistants
who took the pup over to be with his siblings out of Stiles’ line of sight. Out
of my life…forever…
Stiles softly sobbed at the start of his afterbirth. For the remainder he was
largely silent, though he grimaced as he remembered the Wolf custom of the
mother eating the firstborn’s placenta. He was unsure if Derek would make him
perform that particular ritual until Derek told the midwife to have the
placenta prepared for consumption.
Stiles then also recalled that in cases of multiple births it was tradition for
the father to eat the lastborn’s placenta. Though Derek being Derek took the
custom one step further as he ordered all the placentas to be prepared. Perhaps
he will eat them all and spare me the disgust…but more than likely not…knowing
him he’ll probably make me eat all of them…cause he knows it goes against my
Tribe’s customs…Among Stiles’ Tribe it was customary to bury the placenta under
the ground of the parent’s dwelling. Binding them to home…home…Stiles softly
cried at the pang in his heart thinking of home, and his forcibly separated
family.
                                       *
After the afterbirth ritual in which Stiles ate all four placentas Stiles was
laid down on the bed provided for new mothers. His pups were on one side of his
field of vision and the birthing tethers on the other. Derek was with the
midwife and the Occurrin examining the pups. Wolves don’t practice infanticide
much anymore except in extreme cases of deformity… but Stiles’ heart still
lurched up into his throat at the notion that they might possibly even consider
hurting one of his pups. They are perfect…I’m sure…Stiles ached again to hold
them, all of them, but he suppressed his pain as best he might and turned over
in the bed to face away from his children.
Stiles put his hands over his face and cried as softly as he could. He cried
though he knew he would probably be punished for it later. He cried until Derek
walked over to the bed and made the following pronouncement:
"They have passed the Occurrin’s inspection. In five days they will be
presented to the members of my family and be officially accepted into our
lineage, our Pack. From there they will be taken to the nursery and raised
alongside my firstborn and heir." Derek took a momentary pause before
continuing, "You will spend the next few weeks recovering in your room. Isaac
and one of the midwife’s assistants will attend to you. I expect you to heal
and heal quickly. If you heal well perhaps I will let you see the pups you have
given me. If you heal quickly perhaps I will even let you suckle one of them.
Would you like this, Genim?"
Stiles’ mind screamed at him to refuse, to say no, to not allow himself to even
have the possibility of bonding with his children, but his heart spoke first,
"Yes Master. Thank you Master…"
The next words caught in Stiles’ throat but he forced them out, he couldn’t
afford to alienate his master and father of his children, "You are so…good…to
me Master…"
Derek petted Stiles’ cheek with two of his fingers, "I know Genim…I know…some
might say I’m far too good to you…but… but you have exceeded all my
expectations…and I find you worthy of my pride…worthy to bear my mark…worthy to
bear my pups…"
Collecting himself Derek removed his fingers and straightened up looking
slightly ridiculous standing at attention naked as he was and though he was no
longer covered in Stiles’ blood and shit. "And I expect you to continue to
excel…you please me Genim…and as long as you continue to bear healthy pups… you
will continue to please me."
Derek allowed himself one last brush of his fingers along Stiles’ cheek, then
he straightened his shoulders again and said nearly dismissively, "Goodnight
Genim. I won’t see you again until you are more recovered."
"Good night Master." Stiles said coldly fighting the urge to vomit, or scream
and yell and rail against his fate. But he bit back his anger and the bile that
threatened to come up. He held down his emotions and tried to strangle them,
tried to go calm, or numb, or anything to not have to feel.
As timed passed and Stiles drifted closer and closer to sleep another thought
crept into his mind. This is going to be my life…he’s going to breed me as
often as he can…get as many bastards off me as he can…to spread his Hale
name... all over this Kingdom…I am going to spend my life giving birth to his
children…and having them taken away from me…Stiles sobbed and wept and didn’t
bother trying to hold himself together. He let himself fall apart in that bed
that night, and each night until his master Derek came to call once again, only
two weeks after Stiles gave birth...
                                       *
Two weeks into Stiles’ recovery Derek paid his consort a visit. He didn’t try
to have sex with Stiles, the healers had made it clear that to do so would risk
Stiles’ ability to breed later on. Derek couldn’t have that so he simply re-
gnashed the bite mark on the back of Stiles’ neck.
Another two weeks passed before Derek visited again. This time he came bearing
one of the pups…one of the boys…
"I hear from Isaac how well you are healing Genim, I am very pleased."
Stiles sat up in his bed, where he had been forced to rest for the past four
weeks. While the bed rest had been welcome now it had become a curse. Hours and
hours of nothing but sitting…days and days of nothing but sleeping and
reading…It’s been so long Isaac won’t even stay in the room if I open my mouth…
"Thank you Master."
"Since you are doing so well I thought you might like to hold one of our
pups…this is Petro he’s a month old and already he is the runt of our litter.
He’s stubborn and refuses to suckle with the others…the wet-nurse seems to
think he would do better with you…"
Stiles held out his arms somewhat reluctantly. He hadn’t seen or heard his pups
at all since the birth and had made a painful peace with the fact that he would
never get to hold his pups. But he took the boy in his arms and brought him to
his breast.
They waited only a moment and Petro took to breast with relish. Stiles grunted
softly but refused to otherwise acknowledge what was happening. The less I bond
now the better…but Stiles couldn’t help taking peeks at his son who sucked
gently but insistently. Gods he is so beautiful…and he’s mine…Stiles almost
teared up, but held back. He’s not mine…he’s his…Gods he can be so cruel…
"How does it feel Genim?"
Stiles couldn’t lie, Derek would know. "Good Master… saddening…I love him…"
"Genim…Aren’t you glad to get you hold your son? To suckle him?"
Stiles voice was unsteady, but he knew what his master wanted to hear. "Yes
Master…" then it broke, "…you are so good to me Master…" A few stray tears fell
that Stiles could not hold back.
"Genim don’t cry. I’ve decided that from now on you will suckle Petro. The wet
nurse can handle the others."
Stiles simply nodded and looked down on his son who was still greedily suckling
away. Gods he is mine…this one is mine…   
Chapter End Notes
     I don't know why I was just holding on to this, but here is the
     second chapter. I think there might someday be more, but after this
     update i don't have anything written so don't count on more any time
     soon. Sorry... :(
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