Guardian Wolf Ch. 08

"I don't know if I can handle a ten-fold orgasm from big boy over here. I pass out from the orgasms he gives me already," Rachel said, a little embarrassed at her admission.

"That is just because you are new to the orgasm game. Once your body becomes accustomed to this level of arousal, your sensitivity will wane just a bit. The clitoral and belly button rings just add that additional kick that will remind you of the very first time James took you. Believe me...I always remember the first time Boris and I made love, each time he is between my legs now. The sex is always amazing. Ask any one that has a piercing; it not only looks cool but it feels awesome," Samantha said with a far off look in her eyes as she remembered a particularly hot sexual encounter as Boris took her over the tattoo chair after hours. Damn her man could fuck!

"What's with the nipple piercings Sam? Doesn't that interfere with you nursing the boys?" James asked. He was intrigued by the piercings; he never imagined he could pierce Rachel's nipples.

"Oh, these? These aren't piercings, they're nipple clamps," Samantha said as she pinched the two barbells together, removing the clamp from her left breast; and unhooking it from the chain, handed it to James. A small drop of milk escaped from her nipples as the pressure was released from her sensitive nipples. No one missed the shudder of pleasure that occurred when Samantha removed the clamps.

"Boris made me wear those today for being extra naughty for a minor infraction involving a female customer yesterday. I have to wear those all day attached to my belly and clitoral rings. He says I am not allowed to climax or he will severely "punish me" after the boys go down for the night," Samantha said as she did the customary air quotes. All present could tell that it would be punishment for neither Samantha nor Boris.

"That is cool! I'll have to remember that for tonight during your own punishment," James said as he reminded Rachel that he was still planning on tonight, pinching her nipple harshly, making her gasp in painful delight and drenching her already wet panties. He handed the nipple clamp back to Samantha to be replaced on her left breast.

"Oooh...punishment....do tell. Was it something exceptionally naughty?" Samantha's eyes lit up at the mention of the p-word.

Rachel retold her less than stellar performance at the arena last night and how her actions could have seriously damaged her relationship with Marcus.

"Our Marcus is supposed to mate Jessica Hamilton? God...does mom know? She has a serious bone to pick with Anna "the wicked bitch from Hell" Hamilton. There is no way this is going to end well for the Hamilton's," Amy said, echoing an unsaid knowledge that Augustus and Anna Hamilton may not be living for too much longer.

"She knows...believe me. But enough of that. Let's get this show on the road. We still have a lot of packing to do before we head up to the cabin tomorrow. Rachel and I still have to stop off at the store tonight to get all the perishable foods for the cabin for the next month," James said.

"Yeah...let's get this over with. I know I am on the wrong end of a losing battle. But if I don't have as massive an orgasm as you two say I will, we will have words," Rachel said. Both Samantha and Amy laughed and winked at each other. Samantha was kind enough to help Amy put on her maternity pants after buttoning up her own.

"Deal! Come on, let's go introduce you to my Bo-Bo," Samantha said.

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Boris Kirov was the quintessential image of counter-culture perfection. For all appearances he was a rebellious young man who had many issues against his parents and society as a whole. His dark black hair was kept in a long pony tail held by leather longs. He also kept a long, fu-manchu beard that nearly came to his waist; this also was tide neatly with leather thongs. His arms and neck were heavily tattooed; an adornment of artistic expression and self-discovery, painting a veritable history of his life and loves on his skin. To many people, seeing such a man would cause them to second guess walking on the same side of the street as such a gruff and inhospitable exterior suggested.

But to those that personally knew Boris, or Bo-Bo, as he was affectionately called by his close friends and family, Boris was a man who was bigger than life with a heart of gold, even if his physical stature was slightly diminutive at 5'8". He loved his mate, his children, and his art with such passion and fervor that no one could dispute where his heart truly lied in the grand scheme of things. He was a walking enigma, cold and callous looking on the outside but warm and friendly to those he called friends and family.

Ever since meeting his mate ten years earlier and leaving his clan and previous life behind in St. Petersburg, Boris had blossomed into his intended role and love as a tattoo artist; a role that would never have borne fruit under his own clan's archaic and strict outlook on life. Things such as art and music were nice distractions for the human world and other clans, but it was no way to make a living as a member of the Fenris clan. They were better than that. They were entitled to so much more as one of the ruling classes in Soviet, and subsequently Russian society. They had outlived the empires of Peter the Great and Ivan the Terrible, flourished during the Era of the Romanovs, and weathered the bitter storm of Communism. Theirs was a history rich in tradition and entitlement; they were the ruling elite.

This was not a life Boris had any intention of sharing. Boris abhorred flaunting his wealth and privilege around others, much to the detriment of his family. His father and ruling Beta Superior expected great things from his son, expecting Boris to one day succeed him as Beta Superior. His mother, a ravishing raven-haired beauty named Natalia, was his only shelter from his father's withering scorn when it came to Boris's love of art. His father Viktor Kirov tolerated his son's dalliance in such a pastime while he was young, but when it came time for finishing school and to enter University, his father put his foot down. No son of his would waste his time painting pictures in some vain pursuit for acceptance. Boris would choose a career that was befitting his station in life and hierarchy within the clan. Boris was Viktor's heir apparent; he would one day become second in command to their Alpha; a powerful position for one of the largest clans in all of Russia.

To appease his father, Boris chose a field in computer programming and mathematics. But a concession was reached between the two, father and son; Boris would be allowed to travel and study abroad. Boris was overjoyed and quickly enrolled at Harvard University with his father's blessings. After completing dual bachelors' degrees in computer science and mathematics, he applied and was accepted to MIT. Here he continued his masters and doctoral thesis graduating Summa Cum Laude.

Of course Boris did not spend the entire time studying during his years at University. Like many of his kind, he had come to the Rites of Ascension without a mate. Unlike the Alpha lineage, there was no easy way of finding one's mate...and the world was a very large place. During the summer months Boris took sabbatical leave of his studies to pursue signs of his mate. He traveled across the country looking for his intended. Boris had known for a long time that his intended mate was somewhere in Northern America. But with every passing summer he became more and more discouraged at not being able to find his mate. He would have to return home once his doctoral thesis was accepted. His father was most anxious for his return to begin training Boris as Beta Superior. After eight long years Boris had little recourse than to return home to his mother and father in St. Petersburg. Finding ones mate was an ultimate eventuality, but the time spent without a mate by your side was soul wrenching.

Upon his return his father was happy to announce that the reigning Alpha's youngest and only male heir had been chosen to lead the clan; better yet, his Rite of Ascension was quickly approaching. There was little time to help prepare Boris to succeed Viktor. His tutelage would begin immediately.

Now Boris knew the young Alpha apparent; his name was Roman...Roman Pankov. He was a young boy when Boris went abroad to study; but even as a young boy, Boris knew the child would grow into a pretentious, spoiled prick. To Boris's great dismay, Roman did little to disappoint his initial evaluation of the eventual Alpha. Roman was as much a spoiled, chauvinistic, arrogant son of a bitch if he had ever met one; and Boris had met many. From the time the lad was a toddler, his father and mother had filled his head with nonsense and continuously reminded the little brat that he was the only male heir; his sisters had no claim of authority to clan Alpha. Now, just shy of his eighteenth birthday, the little shit was already so full of himself few could be in the room without injuring the boy's over-inflated ego.

And if that were not enough, his intended mate was a girl from one of the most prestigious and oldest families in all of Russia...Anastasia Khodorkovsky Her father had amassed a great fortune in oil and mineral rights and land exploration; her mother was descended from Russian and Finnish aristocracy. They were wealthy beyond measure, entitled and just as arrogant as the Pankov's. And coming from such a prestigious and old family, the girl was as empty and egotistical as her intended mate...a match made in Heaven...or Hell, depending on one's point of view. It was commented more than once that while exceptionally decorative, Anastasia Khodorkovsky had little else to bring to this mating. It was well known that beyond her beauty and obvious sexual appeal, Anastasia's mental acuity rivaled only very old cheese and certain bacterial strains of Influenza. Boris knew that serving these two empty headed egotists would be a sentence worse than an eternity in the nine circles of Hell. Had Boris run over Mother Luna's dog in a previous life and not apologized? Suffice it to say, this was one sentence Boris had no intention of serving.

Boris knew he could not stay with his clan and serve this young whelp of an Alpha in good conscience. If not for the enormous respect he held for the current Alpha and his own father, Boris would enjoy challenging, beating, and subsequently pulling Roman's arrogant head through his even more arrogant ass. This left little recourse for Boris. To leave the pack was risking banishment and eternal shame for yourself and your progeny. To leave the pack as the heir apparent to such a prestigious role as Beta Superior ensured that Boris would never be able to return to his pack's territory nor his clan's. He would be erased from everything that made one a Fenris. If he ever tried to return to his pack, he would be torn limb from limb.

Fortunately, Boris had seen this eventuality coming. He had saved a considerable amount of money that would allow him to live anywhere in the world quite comfortably for many years. With his knowledge, education, and natural talent Boris could secure any number of jobs in prestigious and lucrative positions. But Boris saw this reality as a means to a greater eventuality. He was free from the bonds of ritual and heritage to forge his own destiny and create his own identity. He left his clan and heritage with only a brief and tearful moment with his mother Natalia; she was the only one he would truly miss. His father refused to even acknowledge or look at his son; in all respects, Viktor's son was now dead to him.

Boris spent the next couple of years painting near the Old National Gallery near the center of Berlin. He would have loved to stay near the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, but it was abundantly clear he was not welcome anywhere near his homeland. The museum island was a mecca of artistic discovery to Boris and he spent nearly every free moment exploring and appreciating the centuries of art and sculpture the area had to provide. But western Berlin was a little too fancy for his tastes and he chose to live in a part of the old Eastern Bloc.

Since the unification of Germany, much of what was Eastern Berlin was still undergoing a financial and aesthetic transformation to reflect its new western values; in many places it was clearly visible that the transformation from Soviet Era construction was slow going indeed. But Boris did not mind the Soviet era buildings and surroundings; he had grown up around such things. Plus there were definite economical values to living in the more...um...historical parts of Berlin. The small flat he rented above an older German GastHaus was sufficient for his minimal needs as a "starving" artist. He either took a bus or tram to the different museums to paint or explore and he rode his bicycle when weather permitted. But this would all soon change once his beloved mate came into his life.

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Samantha Kirov was not always the flamboyant and outgoing female that James and Rachel came to know and love. Before she met Boris she was Samantha Walcott, youngest daughter to Alpha Michael Walcott of the Archer Clan. Okay, she was not his actual daughter but his niece. Michaels mate Delilah's beloved brother Devon and his young wife Susan died tragically in a car crash coming home from the hospital with their infant daughter Samantha. They were a young, happy couple who were overjoyed with their first child and daughter. Tragically this happiness was cut short when a semi-tractor trailer hit black ice and hit their station wagon head on. Miraculously Samantha was spared.

Delilah and Michael were heartbroken but overjoyed to welcome a new member into the family. But how would they properly raise a human child within a Lycan family? Michael sought the advice and wisdom of the fates: Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. The fates had unfortunately foreseen this coming and had prepared and answer for the eventual meeting with the puzzled step-father. It was decided that young Samantha would be raised as a daughter of an Alpha and, upon her eighteenth birthday, would be given the choice whether to be turned or not. The Rites of Ascension would allow Michael to turn his daughter into a Lycan upon her eighteenth birthday. Nothing was said about the chosen mate that would be searching for Samantha once she was turned. But it was correctly assumed that if she chose to turn, there would be someone waiting in the world to claim her as his own.

Samantha Walcott became an official member of the Archer Clan with the signing of the adoption papers that very day. From the very beginning she was welcomed and loved by her adopted brothers and sisters. The older siblings, especially the daughters were excited to have a new baby around the house and quickly helped their parents as nursemaids and nannies. No sibling ever thought upon the fact that this young child was not of their bloodline; she was simply a sister and beloved member of the pack.

Samantha quickly grew into a happy and rambunctious girl. She loved her adopted family with every ounce of her being and showed it often to every member of the household. She never even considered it odd or out of place that her siblings were able to shift into wolves and back again. This was the natural order of things in Samantha's mind. At an early age however, it was impressed upon their child that it was important to keep such things secret from her friends at school; it was a secret that should be held to her last dying breath. Even at such a tender age, Samantha understood the gravity of such a secret. If she told someone, they would come and hurt her family; she would never, never allow such a thing to happen.

The only thing that Samantha regretted was not being a true member of the pack. She understood that she was a member of the family and would always be treated as an equal, but the ability to run openly with the pack during the monthly runs and to play rough with her brothers and sisters was something that Samantha dearly hoped and prayed for. It was not until her twelfth birthday and the onset of puberty that she began to understand that her fate could be changed one day and she would have the opportunity to truly indulge in her wild side.

She began to have increasingly strange and erotic dreams and visions of running through the forest with a male she instinctively recognized as her mate. Samantha knew that her mate came from a foreign land far to the east and spoke a language entirely not her own. But she also recognized the undying love this man felt for her and sensed a kindred spirit who she could spend the rest of her life with, no matter how long that might be. Each time she woke she found she was extremely aroused and her bed wet. The first time this happened she thought she had somehow wet the bed and spoke to her mother about it. Her mother explained what was happening and simply explained this was part of becoming a woman and to explore these dreams and try to decipher meaning. Delilah stopped short of openly telling her daughter it was perfectly okay to masturbate, but she figured her daughter would figure such a thing out shortly.

Finally the day of her eighteenth birthday arrived and she was eagerly waiting the night when she would finally join her family and clan as a full member of the pack. She had spoken in great length with her father about letting him change her. Her father was more than happy to bring about the change but he wanted to be perfectly clear to his daughter of her intentions to join the pack and the great responsibility such a thing would entail. Finally the time came and Samantha joined the rest of her family and pack, naked as the day she was born. At first she was a little self-conscious to be around her father and mother nude, but the moment passed and she saw it as just another step to full acceptance of her situation.

The three fates were present and they blessed and praised Samantha for her decision and promised her that she would be richly rewarded in happiness and family because she made such a difficult decision. But the decision was a moot point; the decision had been made for her the moment she awoke wet and aroused from that first dream detailing her future with her intended mate.

Taking her rightful place within the sacred circle with her father, Samantha watched in wonder as the sacred circle with its old and enchanted runes began to glow with an intense and somewhat eerie blue light. Suddenly a column of light engulfed her and her father in a blinding blue glow. Michael Walcott looked one last time at his daughter, a girl he had raised from an infant and treated her as his own, looking for any sign of doubt or second thoughts. But Samantha was more than ready and she nodded to her father, entreating him to change her and her future forever. With that final nod, Michael shifted to full Lycan and buried his fangs deeply in his daughter's right shoulder. The left shoulder was reserved solely for her mate.

Samantha winced at the brief pain as her father's teeth sank into her tender flesh and then it was gone. The light faded and she embraced her father with tears of joy. Michael embraced his daughter and new member of the pack with tears of his own. Suddenly the large hall became deafening as each member of the pack raised their heads to the heavens and welcomed their new sister with joyful howls. She was now a member of the Archer clan forever.

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Almost four years had passed since that blessed night when Mother Luna had seen fit to bestow her gift upon an adopted daughter. Since then she had enjoyed many a run with her family and pack; she had enjoyed rough housing with her brothers and sisters; she had also enjoyed the quiet moments after the pack runs when each mated pair mounted their respective mate and rode to mutual enjoyment and completion. The only regret is that she had not yet found her intended to enjoy such pleasures. But she knew the time was drawing close to when she would finally be taken by her mate and made a woman in every sense of the word.