Book: The Mating Habits of Werewolves

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Soldier On: When a humble young man is captured by the enemy lord during battle. He is expected to offer defeat to his captor by allowing him to bed him. But he is young enough that the act might unintentionally activate a hormonal process that will irreversibly feminize him.

The old man looked at me with pity in his eyes. I glared at him. I had no use for pity. He wasn’t gonna spare me, was he? So what good was it to feel sorry for it? I knew the rules as good as any other soldier, just coz I was young it didn’t mean the rules didn’t go for me. The rules of the land were clear: you got captured, you had to take defeat. I knew why the old man felt sorry for me. I looked younger than I was; he thought I wasn’t gonna make it, not like I was anyway, that once was all it was gonna take. I squared my shoulders and kept my head high. I was his prisoner but I had blood on my weapons and my clothes; I was no coward to go looking down because things were hard.

He sighed, shook his head and waved at me to get on with it. So I did. I turned my back to him and braced my arms on the wall. He came closer and nudged my legs apart with his knee till I opened up enough for his taste. No complaints; I had been ready to die, I wasn’t going to say nothing about a little pain. He unlaced my trousers with a tug and they went right down, they were too big on me even with the muscles the training had put on my skinny frame. They had belonged to my brother before… But I stopped that thought; there was no place for Jemiah in that room. Jemiah was brave. Jemiah wouldn’t be having to make fists to stay in place if he took defeat.

Then I heard his belt unbuckling, of course he had a belt! A fancy rich lord like him couldn’t carry a sword, he needed a sheath and for a sheath you need a belt. He wasn’t too fancy to spit on his hand before he started getting it ready. It sounded the same as when I did it, or one of my brothers in the dark when they thought I was asleep. He didn’t say a thing to me, just pushed between my shoulders till my bum was sticking out and then ran his hand down my spine. That seemed too soft and I wanted to tell him not to coddle me, but I knew I had to keep quiet about that if I wanted to keep quiet about all the rest. He put his fingers between my buttocks and pulled them apart. It must have looked so stupid but it felt… the air shouldn’t have been there. It wasn’t meant to. Only it was, it was the rules of the land. Still, I couldn’t help but clench, my body wanted to get away and I had to lock my knees to make it stay in place. He pushed against it and it didn’t matter how much I clenched, I couldn’t keep it out. I bit my tongue and closed my eyes, trying to think of the blood. I opened my eyes, tried to look down my shirt, where some had dried but at that moment he moved his finger inside me and my eyes clenched shut. It didn’t hurt, just felt weird, like something was where it had no business being. And it was, my body knew it, but that didn’t mean nothing. I couldn’t stop it. All I could do by trying to stop it was shame myself, it wasn’t going to change what was going to happen one bit. Enemy soldiers pay defeat or they lose their heads, and that’s it. I wasn’t stupid enough to die just to avoid a little pain. He put another finger in, well, he tried anyway.

Then he told me, “Relax, boy. I can’t just shove it in you.”

I swallowed, and then I let the air I had been holding out. It sounded too loud, and loud breathing was almost like noise, almost like I cared so I said, “There.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s better,” he agreed and the finger that had been stuck slid right in. It felt rough and too big to be where it was, but I forgot about that because as soon as it was in he started to move them both, twisting and pushing till, locked knees or no locked knees, I started trying to twist my hips. Not away, just to make it a little less strange. It kinda worked, maybe coz at least I got to do something. I had been happy to die, if it meant keeping my people safe and money enough for my mother and little sisters to make it to summer. But now I thought that dying was easy. Most dying, for one, was over pretty fast, soldiers knew how to get their job done and nobody had no time to be playing games in a battlefield. I hadn’t had a thought for getting captured. You can’t, the officers tell you in training, if you think like that you are jinxing yourself. So I didn’t, and now…

“Ok,” he said and I felt his breath on my neck, warm and sticky. And then… I felt it. Something bigger than his fingers nudging at my left buttock, then between them, next to the fingers. He pulled the fingers as far apart as they would go, leaving me open and exposed, like someone could look down and see inside me if they wanted. And then he put his cock against my hole and gave a hard push. I couldn’t help it, all the air left my lungs in a grunt of pain. It felt like he had shoved it right in.

“Aren’t you glad I prepared you now?” He asked, voice rough but still patient, like he thought I was a kid and didn’t know how good I had it.

I was about to curse him. I had to take defeat and I was no coward to beg, but I didn’t have to take lip from an old man who only got to do it to me because he owned all the cavalry and thought he was so tough because he could come and take our land then act like it was all fair. But I couldn’t talk because I was wrong, he hadn’t shoved it right in; there was more. He pushed again and again and I curled my nails into the brick of the cell wall and held on, teeth set on my lip to keep quiet even though he probably couldn’t hear me, the way he was panting with every thrust. It burned, like a muscle that’s gone the wrong way, only it burned every time. And then it didn’t burn so much, it was more like hard work, sore and itchy but nothing I couldn’t ignore. So I did. I thought about the blood. I thought about the rest of our troops breaking into this camp and killing all the bastards in their sleep. And then, he did something different. He must have been leaking because he was moving faster but it didn’t pull at my skin like it wanted to take my insides with it every time he pulled it half out of me. He pushed in all the way again, hard and fast and it was like he was trying to push through me, like being run through with a sword. But I was too fast for the swords, and I hadn’t been fast enough to escape this: How could I not have seen that shield that knocked me out? Why had I let this happen? I tensed against the pain, tasting blood in my mouth. I had bitten through my lip, I thought, and I thought I would throw up from swallowing the blood and the sounds. He couldn’t see my mouth so something else must have given me away because he slowed his pace, gentled it, circling his hips instead of pushing forward. And suddenly, through the discomfort came something worse: It felt good. I raised my forehead from the wall in surprise. It was like something pulling on my cock, but from inside me. If he hadn’t been leaning his head against my neck it wouldn’t have mattered but because he was, my movement bothered him and he got a hand off my hip and pulled my hair till I tilted my head sideways. Like I was a rebellious horse that he had to force to go his way. I grunted and pulled again, even though it hurt me more than it could bother him. But it helped distract me from the way it felt when he slid his other hand down to take hold of my cock and we both noticed it was half hard already. He huffed on my neck and pushed our hips flush together, forcing me to step forward and support my whole body against the wall, only his hand protecting my groin from the harshness of the brick every time his thrusts grinded me into it.

And still, I took it. It was the first time I had taken defeat and I didn’t know how much he could really do in the name of getting it done but I wasn’t going to complain about my cock not getting rubbed against a brick wall, for one. There’s proud and there’s stupid. Maybe he can’t do it, I thought, maybe that’s why he’s distracting me. But it didn’t help nothing, my prick wasn’t dry anymore, it couldn’t be, what with the way he was touching me hard and a little tight. And I thought, why is he making it good? I want… I wanted it all gone. And if I couldn’t make it go right then, I wanted to forget it all tomorrow. Get real drunk, maybe, and then go find a maidy who was impressed with soldiers and… He gave a deep thrust in me and my seed splattered on the wall of the cell. My legs wobbled and he caught me, letting go of my cock to take me by the waist and hoist me higher, put his prick deeper into me. Then I made the first sound, too out of it to stop, because it felt good still but it also hurt now. I had clenched tighter than a nun’s cunt around him. For a crazy moment I thought, what if he can’t get it out?

But he did, he took it out halfway and pushed it back in, keeping his arm locked around me like he thought I was gonna make a run for it. I thought I might have, because it hurt a lot now, I was so tight it felt like was splitting me open every time. When I felt his thrusts speeding up, I gave in and closed my eyes. It only made it worse because it made me feel weak and weak was what I was most afraid of being. Too young to get through this. Of course it didn’t help, it’s not like I could see him, see his cock splitting me open, going so deep it could change me forever. And it wasn’t like it was just in my head: I was older than I looked, but sometimes men with wives got caught and got made. And everybody knew the younger you were the worst your chances, the more your body could get turned around and think a grown man putting his seed in you was because we had no more females and we needed to make some to survive. He grunted, his grip getting hard enough to hurt. I felt it start, the suddenly easy slide in and out, the warm liquid he was filling me with till I could feel it dripping between my legs every time he pulled out. It was a weakness but I didn’t open my eyes, I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t stop the fear but I was damned if I was gonna show it. Finally, he slowed down and stopped, leaning heavily on me for a few breaths that seemed to burn the back of my neck. Even more come slipped out when he stepped back and it took it out of me. It stung enough to make me shudder but I didn’t mess up; I was quiet.

“Get some rest,” the lord said and walked out. The guards locked the door behind him and I suddenly remembered them stories about guards and I looked at them, careful they didn’t see me looking. One was standing there next to the cell door, but what could I do anyway? If he wanted to come in and do what his lord had done I could fight him, but he was armed and I had nothing. Not even clothes. I pulled my trousers up, pretending it didn’t bother me any to feel the lord’s liquid all over my arse, and I lay down on the straw. It was the rule of the camp, when you got nothing to do; eat and sleep. Because when you got something to do, you got no time for that.

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