tagNonHumanA Pack of Tales Ch. 10

A Pack of Tales Ch. 10

byNaokoSmith©

A Pack of Tales

Copyright © 2013 Naoko Smith

Thank you so much to Bramblethorn for continuing to support my writing in spite of the many demands on your time.

Please leave comments and feedback for me so I know what works and what doesn't as I write up the rest of this story.

This series will include two kinds of chapters: story chapters, called '(story)' in the blurb and sex scenes, called '(scene)' in the blurb. The sex scenes will be diverse. You can choose to read them all or, if e.g. hetero sex isn't your thing, to skip some and only read the story chapters and e.g. lesbian sex scenes. (You can identify which scenes are what kind of sex from the tags, the category the chapter is uploaded into and description at the start of the scene.)

All characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

This scene contains an account of a rape. I hope I have made clear in this account how disgusting a crime rape is and how angry it makes me to see how little support is offered to victims of rape, although I do believe things are getting better.


A Pack of Tales Ch. 10 – Red/Christa

Red turns (scene)

The breath was catching in Red's throat and she was bristling, choking against her collar. Max had come to a halt in front of her and was turning not to her but to Col, as if in supplication on Red's behalf.

But Col had called her. He was the upcoming Alpha and he had called her name. She would have to answer.

Col had put his hand on her shoulder. He gripped it and pushed her, gently but firmly, to the armchair nearest the door where she usually sat.

They were all there: the cubs sprawled on the sofa and chairs, Rex in his armchair by the fireplace, Jenks and Nye had come to hear how Red's interview had gone. Only Christa was absent – in the kitchen getting tea.

Col pushed Red to the chair and then went to sit on the end of the sofa by Rex's armchair. Max went slowly across and sat on the sofa between Col and Rob.

Red sat catching her breath and sliding her eyes around the room at them all: Rikki and Rob turning puzzled curious faces to her, Nye and Jenks waiting patiently, Max folding his long lean body onto the sofa, his face cold and reserved. Col and Rex also looked at her with the whites of their eyes showing, their expressions telling her they already knew it must be bad.

"I ... I," Red stuttered. Finally she took a deep breath and turned her yellowing eyes to stare out of the window. She slid a finger inside the collar of her silk shirt around the red leather collar hidden underneath. She sat up straight in the armchair, the strength and character of her muscular body made apparent in the clothes Max had selected for her, her feet resting squarely on the floor in her elegant court shoes. The short wings of hair brushed her cheekbones, sweet strawberry blonde, appealingly boyish.

"It was when I started college," Red said in a monotone. "There was a bus to get us there, an hour's journey. I met her on the bus."

Clare. The same age but seemingly worlds wiser. Red knew now that it was just an act but to a shy girl who had never made many friends, Clare seemed like the fount of all knowledge. She was a dark-haired siren with a catch in her laugh. She said she was a witch: "I'm a witch, you know," looking deep into people's eyes and making that catchy laugh. They were not quite sure if she was joking.

Why did she pick Red? Looking back with the perspective gained by the time that had passed since, and with the confidence of having a pack at her back, Red said: "She liked me. She liked ... girls like me. We were the same."

Except that Clare was popular, with her long dark hair, catchy laugh and the hint of the mystic about her. When the friendships from school shook up and people discovered new friends, Clare picked Red.

Red knew better than to obtrude her clumsy person into the circle of people with whom Clare socialised at college, of course. They were on different courses. But on the bus home they would sit together until Clare's stop – which was before Red's - and then Red would sit staring out of the window not daring to question how incredibly happy she felt.

They kissed. Lightly, quickly on saying goodbye. Clare would put her mouth to Red's cheek by her ear. Red would feel the blood suddenly thundering in her veins, her heart thumping in her chest, her thighs loosening and she would smile. She hardly knew what this might mean until Clare carefully carelessly started showing her magazine pictures.

"Christ, look at this, Red. How do you think they can?" She looked deep into Red's eyes and laughed her catchy laugh, pointing at two women entwined in the glossy paper of a men's magazine. "Would you like to come to my house for tea next week?"

The night Red went to Clare's house for tea they were silent on the bus. It was a dark autumnal night, the air heavy with rain. Clare had a hand on Red's leg, holding it gently while she stared out of the window. Her dark eyes were sparkling.

They got off the bus with the jostling crowd of other college kids. Red couldn't remember now if she'd spoken to any of the others. Clare dawdled by the roadside, holding Red back by the sleeve until the others had cleared off down the hill, disappearing in the damp dark November night. Clare pulled Red back into the bus shelter by the roadside, a concrete hut with a bench built into it.

It smelt of stale piss and stubbed out cigarettes. Clare moved into Red's arms and they began to kiss – tentatively at first, their mouths touching then lingering and pressing wet and warm to each other's mouth. Red started panting and pressing into Clare's body as well as her kiss, the blood running in her veins so hot that she thought nothing of the damp autumnal chill. Her senses were full of woman: the soft soapy smell of Clare drifting on that stale bus shelter stench, the wet kiss of her mouth, the sucking sound she made on Red's lip, the fingers Clare was pushing into the waistband of her jeans, the feel of Clare's ribs to her own fingers groping under Clare's top.

"What the fuck is this?!" The furious voice crashed suddenly in their ears.

Red sprang away from Clare, her heart thumping now with shock. She could feel that curious bristling feeling she would get in moments of high emotion intensifying.

There were five of them. She knew that one was Clare's brother, the others his mates.

"You fucking slag!" His words were addressed to Clare but his eyes were on Red. He was livid with fury. The emotions coming off his mates were more complex but their titillated sniggers did nothing to soften his mood.

Clare gave a shrill hysterical giggle. She was trembling and Red saw a flash of the whites of her eyes.

"Get out of here!" Clare's brother said in a low intensely angry voice. "I told you. If I ever catch you at this again, I'll fucking do you!"

Clare was out of the bus shelter and running before he'd finished speaking. Red made a step to follow but he said: "Oh no. I don't think so. I think you need a lesson."

Red sat straight in the armchair in the farmhouse sitting-room, staring out of the window. The cubs were no longer curious, they didn't want to know. Rob was whimpering and fidgeting but nobody told him to shut up. Rikki sat staring at the floor with his gorgeous golden features stricken. Rex had turned his head aside so you couldn't see his face, Nye and Jenks sat with their shoulders hunched in an identical misery. Only Col and Max continued to look at Red, Col with the concentrated frown etched into his brow, Max's face cold and reserved.

She tried to hold up the rucksack of college papers and books to shield herself. It was snatched from her hands and chucked in the road outside. When she tried to punch them, they twisted her arms back – there were five of them. The violent stripping of her clothes from her, tearing them off if they would not come easily away. Sometimes she used to wonder if her struggling had excited them more. Perhaps if she'd passively submitted to this fate .... She knew that nothing she could have done would have made any difference. They were a bunch of wild beasts, driven mad by collective lust.

She was changing under their hands. That bristling feeling had taken over, the hair was bursting out over her body, from her shoulders, down her back. As they held her struggling body down for the second one to shove his dick up inside her, she was loosening and responding. The third one's prick poked her on spots that made her jerk with orgasmic reflex even as she was struggling to break away. They started hitting her on the head with a stone so she would lie still.

She lay drifting in and out of consciousness, naked and returning to smooth human form on the concrete floor in the stale piss and cigarette butts. As they left they were laughing, they said: "What a fucking animal! You were wet and up for it. Come back for more next time the moon's full, you freak."

She sat still in her armchair, staring with her yellow eyes out of the window. After a while, Nye said hesitantly: "But why did you leave? They were caught, weren't they? Put away?"

Red's eyes came back down from the window to stare into his puzzled distressed face.

"It was a difficult case," she said. "The police told me it would be difficult to take forward."

"Difficult?" Nye's face crumpled in a frown.

"Shut up," Max said sharply. "There was someone's son among them."

Red's eyes turned to him, a look of surprise coming into them. It seemed it was the first time she had realised so serious a case could not possibly have been difficult to prosecute unless there were some reason the authorities would close ranks and make it appear so.

"But your family," Nye persisted, his yellowy brown eyes still turned to her with the hurt expression of a puzzled dog in them. "They would have helped you, surely? Why did you run away?"

"Threatened by the community," Max said tersely. "Bumped you out with five hundred quid to get you on your way. Especially when they realised what you had become."

Red flicked her yellow eyes at him and at the others: Nye and Jenks stricken with uncomprehending sadness, the cubs restless and unable to meet her gaze, Max's eyes a muddy green in his cold face, Col coiled beside him on the sofa with his mouth bitterly twisted, Rex with his head turned away.

Her sister had been the only one who came to the hospital. She came carrying their brother's rucksack stuffed with a few clothes, Red's phone, the album of photos which Red had treasured since she first had a camera. They had always been close and now her sister's head was turned away and her eyes narrowed with hatred of her own selfish shame.

Red had the pack now. Rex – the leader, would he give her no sign, nothing to say he would still accept her? Would he too rise up and say she must go? He was of a generation who thought women brought these things on themselves by dressing or behaving foolishly. Her family had driven her away in order that they could continue to fit in a community distorting to protect its sons. She hoped for better from the pack but Rex would not look at her.

Col got suddenly up and walked over to Red. He stood beside her chair, putting his hand on the back of her neck and gripping it.

She quivered, her thigh muscles softening and her cunt going wet at this. She had never been sexually interested in any man but he was the upcoming Alpha. If he told her to, she would spread her legs for him and for the whole fucking pack.

Col gripped his hand on the back of her bristling neck and shook it. "Come on, let's have a kickabout," he said in a rough-edged voice. "Get the ball, Rob. Come on, Jenks, Nye. You too, you foocking poof," and he went over and kicked Max in the leg.

"In these shoes!" Max grumbled, caressing the shiny black leather Oxford he was wearing.

"Foocking change," Col snarled. "You too," he said curtly to Red.

He shepherded the grumbling pack out of the door; except for Rex. In the hallway he shouted: "Bring us a cup of tea!" towards the kitchen.

"Fetch it yourself, you lazy bugger!" Christa shouted back.

"You foocking cow, bring it now!" Col yelled. He knew this would make Christa run out of the kitchen breathing fury and then she would find Rex crying alone in the sitting-room and sort him out. Col ran hurriedly out of the front door before Christa could catch him.

At first the pack were hesitant and gentle around Red. They knocked the ball doubtfully to each other in the muddy yard. (Apart from Max who strolled lazily around the 'goal' marked by two piles of stones.) Jenks tried to set Red up for an easy goal and had the ball taken off him by Rikki. Red committed a savage foul on Rikki, making him crash to the ground howling in protest.

"I didn't see anything," Col snarled. "Shurrup, you wimp, play on."

Rikki bumped Red over the ball, succeeding in pushing her off it because he was a lot bigger. She ran ahead to help Jenks defend, hovering in the goal with Max and Jenks. The ball smacked her in the face once but she only chested it down to her feet and dribbled it back down the yard to set Rob up.

"Goal! Goa-oa-oal!" he howled in triumph, skidding on his knees and pulling his shirt over his head in celebration. His pale tummy was displayed to them all with the packed muscles in hard layers on it.

"That's a red card offence these days, sunshine!" Col said. "Get the gate, there's Gavin's car coming up the track."

"You'll get worse than a red card when Christa sees your jeans," Max laughed.

When they came in, Red slipped quietly off up the stairs to her small room. She sat on the single bed, staring at the wall and panting lightly. After a while, she stripped and took her collar off.

Christa paused with her hand raised to knock on the door. It was too late, she could hear the whining and crying inside. She knew Red would be snarling and biting at her own forelegs for lack of anyone else to take it out on. If Christa went in now, Red would go for her. Christa would never get the collar back on her in the state she was in.

Christa's face crumpled, she leant her forehead on the door and let two tears squeeze out of her eyes.

She straightened up and shook herself. She went briskly down the stairs to continue cooking tea.

She came into the kitchen which was annoyingly full of cubs. Nye and Jenks had gone home and Rex was still collecting himself in the sitting-room. Christa shoved past to get to the cooking range, scolding Rikki to make him pull his chair in and telling Max off for cutting the salad so slowly.

"I don't like the onion in bloody great chunks," Max whined. "I've got to go to London tomorrow with the Minister, the damn English will make crass jokes about leeks if I smell of onions."

Christa noticed that Rob was leaning mournfully all over Gavin. Gavin sat with a mug of tea in his hands, puzzled at the tense mood he sensed which none of these stupid boys had been able to bear to explain to him. Christa scowled at her son sitting with her foster son draped all over him like a curtain. Gavin made a face back that meant: "What?"

"Rob, lay the table," Christa snapped. Rob lifted his tousled blond head and mournful puppy eyes from Gavin's shoulder and got reluctantly up. Gavin flicked soft brown eyes at him as he did so.

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