The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 06

He couldn't remain here long unfortunately, even if he would have quite happily watched his small army of children for days. He may not have been able to watch over them individually as they grew, but he was always a central pillar of their lives. He left the more mundane aspects of child rearing to their mothers and a few selected members of his pack.

It was a good system. Even if the mothers hated him for kidnapping them, it was a rare individual who could murder their own child. Incidents did occasionally happen of course, but he had enough pack members who were perfectly willing to step in and take up the role of child rearing in the event a mother took her own life or died trying to escape. The loss of a few pups was inconsequential when compared to the superior genetic stock presented by him kidnapping those who took his interest.

The results spoke for themselves. He watched down on the sparring field as one of his oldest daughters managed to grapple her much older instructor into submission. The older scarred male she had subdued was a member of Michael's pack and a talented warrior, but he was still defenseless before the superior ability of his magically enhanced off spring.

He watched on with pride as his daughter, evidently happy with the warrior's abilities, claimed what was hers. The male was erect in seconds under her aggressive ministrations, and she quickly impaled herself onto him.

Michael had begun seeing more than a few grandchildren around the place in recent months as his first children came of age and began subjugating those weaker than themselves, usually a mother of one of their half-siblings or one of his guards.

In the case of his sons, sometimes they were killed in the attack by the imprisoned, but more often than not, the mother ended up being rutted. Michael would have been happy with this, as it was only natural, except that it had ended up with a large number of his younger offspring being killed by their older half-siblings in their need for complete dominance of their newfound mates.

Michael had been forced to keep his youngest offspring as well as their mothers separated from their older-half siblings.

The mothers of his older offspring had then become even more valuable and now were the primary resource that the siblings fought over.

Michael couldn't be happier, the constant competition ensured only the most suitable of his offspring survived, and in process gave him grandchildren and thus more soldiers.

His daughters were even worse. It was not uncommon that a male member of Michaels pack went missing on guard duty when they patrolled the massive prison that held Michael's massive family. Sometimes the male would be found days later, his throat slit when could no longer perform as a semen dispenser.

In some cases they never showed up at all, likely kept hidden somewhere in the depths of the prison. A pretty sad end for a once powerful soldier, but Michael never seemed to run out of volunteers to go on patrol.

He could only thank the Goddesses that his daughters did not feel desperate enough to target their brothers. As it was he simply had to keep a constant supply of males to act as guards.

He had plenty of female guards as well, and they also had a tendency of disappearing, but they usually just ended up pregnant, not dead.

From an outside perspective this little society he had created would seem lawless. That was not true. He was creating an army of warriors that carried his bloodline. It was only natural that they fight amongst themselves when they had no other enemy before them. It was in their nature to seek out mates and foes when they came of age. Michael would be horrified if they weren't. This place had only one rule; survival of the fittest. The reward for surviving was to procreate and continue the bloodline.

Michael turned from his place overlooking the sparring grounds and moved to his own quarters.

The cold stone of the underground labyrinth felt cold under his feet as he moved through the halls. It used to be an underground fortress that he had found while scouting the werewolf tribe's borders.

The place likely pre-dated the arrival of the humans and had certainly been unused for at least a few years before he stumbled across it. He assumed it was lizard-kin in origin because it was subterranean, but to be honest he could care less. It was large and hidden, and that was all he need.

He didn't ever spend more than a few nights in his little hidden spawning grounds. That would arouse too much suspicion, but he did need personal space for when he was focusing on one particular woman; he didn't particularly feel like murdering one of his own sons in a fight over a woman after all.

She would be kept secure until he was sure she was pregnant. At which point she would be moved into the 'nursery'. Thereafter she would raise his child until it came of age, at which point she would be moved back into the 'public' areas and would likely be claimed by one of his other offspring, at which point the whole process would start again.

He occasionally stopped to speak with a member of his pack, to ensure that the facility was running correctly. It was important he did so; it was usually his commanders who ended up being kidnapped by his offspring, as they were seen as having the best traits.

As it stood, a majority of his remaining commanders were now females in varied stages of pregnancy. The male commanders he had started with had never been returned or found.

Michael moved into his quarters. They were almost entirely spartan. It contained a few books and a massive desk and a bed. Michael didn't sleep in the bed, it was for one person, and in the entire time that he had been conducting business in the prison it had only been unoccupied once or twice for any period longer than two days. He kept his guest in the bed, usually using chains. Once in a blue moon that wasn't required, but for his latest guest the chains were most definitely needed.

Right now the bed was occupied by the horse-kin mercenary he had captured a week or so ago. He had recently discovered that her name was Sheila, which pleased him greatly. His most recent acquisition having a human name was surely a sign of good favor with the gods.

He was pretty sure that his seed had already taken root in her. As it was he was simply enjoying her body until her belly began to swell with his child. He always enjoyed that.

To him pregnant women seemed to have a warm glow that simply couldn't be replicated. To know that it was his child in her womb always gave him a warm tingle, even after having seen it so many times with so many different women.

He did love all his children. He felt sad when each died. He felt pride when each succeeded. He may not have been able to personally watch over each of them, but he still cared for all of them. The way they were raised may be seen as harsh, but that was fine. It would only make them stronger. The strong would survive. Michael himself was evidence enough of that.

He rubbed his large hand over Sheila's flat stomach, reveling at the glossiness of her fur. It really was quite impressive considering how long she had spent locked in this room. The sleeping horse-kin was a beautiful sight, from her hooved feet to her muzzle. The scars from the fertility runes only added to her loveliness; they made her more exotic and enticing.

She was pleasantly curved in that motherly way that the Oracle was. That was probably the reason he was so attracted to her.

To be fair, almost all the women he had 'adopted' over the years were motherly in one way or another. If they hadn't been mothers prior to him encountering them, then they certainly possessed traits that would be considered motherly. Specifically large breasts and wide child bearing hips, preferably with just small amount of plumpness that ensured they were soft to the touch.

As he thought of the Oracle he felt his shaft hardening. He hadn't seen her much in recent days; she had spent most of her time with that damned lizard-kin ambassador. It was only this morning that the ambassador had left, for which Michael was incredibly thankful. If the man had spent any more time in the presence of his goddess, he would have torn his head off.

Michael had been annoyed when he had discovered the human was being shipped off as an 'envoy' to the lizard-kin. It had delayed the claiming, but that was all. When the human returned Michael would induct him into the pack and the goddess would be his for the taking.

The human would be kept comfortable. It would not be smart to anger an envoy of the gods, but Michael had absolutely no intentions of sharing leadership. The Werewolf Tribes would be his and his alone. Once he had full control of his people he would ravage the other nations and bring them to heel.

Michael felt even more aroused as he considered the conquest of the other races. He knelt down and carefully placed his palm on the sleeping horse-kins heavy breast. The breast felt warm to to the touch and rolled with ponderously with his caresses.

He leaned in even closer and used both hands to play with the left breast enjoying the feeling of it wobbling and jiggling its weighty mass.

He clambered onto the sweaty woman, enjoying the soft sensations of her heated flesh against his own. With practiced ease, he lowered his head to suckle at her breast, eliciting a sigh as he licked his tongue around her areole.

The hot milk instant began flowing into his mouth and he could feel the density leaving her breast as he drank deeply, kneading with both hands, allowing the breast to fully disgorge it creamy payload. Unconsciously the restrained horse-kin arched her back to allow him greater access, her motherly instincts compelling her to act without thought.

Very slowly he used his knees to slowly inch her legs open, exposing her damp cunt to the world. Michael could feel her thighs squeezing, trying to get back together. He simply held his knees in place and held them there.

Michael could feel her beginning to waken, the fact that she hadn't prior to now could likely be attributed to his session with her last night, and damn near every day and night from the day she had been captured. The dried semen around the fur of her cunt and mouth could attest to that.

He ripped his loincloth from himself and began rubbing his oozing head onto her soft belly, adding yet more silvery stains to her black coat. He liked marking it her, it made him feel more than ever that the creature beneath him belonged to him and him alone. When she was here, she was not a horse-kin, a warrior or even a mother. She was his mate.

Her cunt was now radiating heat. She twitched from restive sleep to back-arching hip-raising alertness. She got a split second to see him leaning over her, before he thrust into her, sliding in with practiced ease.

She simply groaned in response. She had grown tired of threatening him days ago. Now she simply accepted his affections with a bare minimum of resistance. A fairly common reaction.

Michael was still careful though, she hadn't bitten off his manhood when he took her orally yesterday, but that might have been because she intended to go for the throat and didn't want to miss her chance by acting prematurely.

As painful as having his cock bitten off would have been, it wouldn't have been the first or even the third time it had happened. The women he picked were usually feisty after all, but Michael had healing magic for those occasions where he lost his manhood to an unwilling lover.

It had been horrifying the first time, but was just painful and inconvenient when it happened these days. He figured he could just avoid oral sex with unwilling partners, but he took a great amount of pleasure in watching a formerly proud opponent gagging on his shaft.

The heat and the wetness of her cunt surrounded his cock. He thrust in again and her hips began rising in return, before he rose up onto his knees grabbed her hips, pushing down into her hard. This was the best position for him to inseminate her. The angle would force his semen down into her womb via gravity.

Her tunnel guided him deeper until he hit her cervix. He barely even slowed; he had penetrated it with the tip of his pointed head days ago and had since enjoyed ejaculating straight into her womb. He continued slamming himself into her. She had groaned in pain when he had first done it, but now she made groans of an entirely different sort.

Even if she hated him, her body was only mortal, and after days of his affections it was reacting to his desire to breed with her. It was only a natural Sapherosian reaction, he was a powerful male who desired to procreate with her. Her body was trying to inform her mind that this was good. In the heat of love making her conscious opinion of her mate was becoming irrelevant as he continued to pound into her love canal.

Michael continued to plunge hard and quick into her, savoring the awesome feeling of penetrating not only her vagina, but also the feeling of his head slipping into her cervix. His heavy thrusts pushed and pulled, sliding along the slick walls of her womanhood.

Finally he could feel her cervix dilate slightly under the pressure of his cock, and slowly he slid into the hot sanctuary of her womb. He was finally violating her most holy sanctuary. Sheila could only gasp, spasm and buck as her vagina squeezed and massaged his invading member.

Michael was barely moving now, he was simply holding himself with in her and letting her bucking and spasms finish him off. He took a perverse pleasure in letting his captive be the one would force him to spray his seed into her.

He let loose with a torrent of his cum. Bucking into her as scalding loads sprayed directly into her fertility.

He collapsed onto her. The pair were silent aside from the sounds of heavy breathing as he lay atop her, steam whispering forth into the cold air where sweat covered them. He lay there for a minute before moving to once more nurse from her engorged nipples.

"...Fucker," She hissed.

Michael ignored her. He had on occasion wondered about the cause for his preoccupation with mother figures, but eventually decided he didn't really care. It made him feel good to nurse from her, anything else was irrelevant.

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Steve sneezed. It occurred to him that no one had tried to have sex with him in a few hours. Weird.

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Afterword: As ever if you have any comments, criticisms and/or suggestions feel free to comment. I will most definitely read them all and adapt the story accordingly if they are valid and fit with what I'm already doing. I would most definitely enjoy incorporating anyone's suggestions into the story, if I feel it fits.

As ever sorry about the delay, chapter 7 should not nearly take as long.