Chapter 13 #2
He put both palms on the desk and leaned in. “Now, show me where it is,” he demanded, then licked the drool from his chops before turning to the camera, adjusting his fake spectacles. “Half-turn twinks, just like humans, have cute little boy pussies.”
I wanted to die. In fact, if this continued for much longer, I’d probably end up doing just that.
“Why don’t you show me?” I asked, making my tone sound as threatening as possible.
“Well, all right.” He pulled the desk toward him and lifted me up before turning my bare ass toward the camera.
“Put me down!”
“As you can see,” he said, struggling to hold me still while slapping the yardstick against my rear end, “this is half-turn boy pussy, and it don’t ever get too loose neither, no matter what you put in there. It’s a scientific anomaly, baffling scholars for generations.”
“I’m gonna kill you, I swear to God!” I shouted, punching his back as hard as I could. His other arm locked my lower half in place as he parted my ass with his fingers.
“I could shove my entire arm up there and he’d walk away like nothing happened.
Isn’t that amazin’?” He finally sat me down, and I threw a punch at his stomach, which didn’t even make him flinch.
“Ooh! Looks like we got some viewers,” he said, looking over at my phone, which was tuned into the stream.
“When the hell did you get my phone, Roscoe?”
Instead of acknowledging me, he scrolled through the fan chat messages.
“That ain’t a bad suggestion, uh—monsterfucker47.”
“Are we even bothering staying in character anymore, or has your goldfish brain already moved onto something else?”
Roscoe turned back toward me. “We got any grapefruit?”
“Can we try to keep this somewhat normal?”
“Dude, we’re up to fifteen viewers,” he whispered, still reading through the chat. “They really like you. I got a great idea.”
“Oh God. Let’s just fuck or something so we can end this.”
Roscoe grabbed an old USB phone charging cable and pointed to the chair. “Have a seat. The real lesson’s about to start.”
“What are you doing with that?”
“Trust me,” he whispered with a look I definitely didn’t trust. “We got twenty viewers now, so we need to take this up a notch.”
Holding the cord, he grabbed my arms and held them behind my back, forcing me into the seat. The more I struggled, the stronger his grip became.
“All right, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
He looked at the camera and laughed nervously. “Half-turns like Cody love to play hard to get, but they’re all kinky little monkeys.” Roscoe slipped the wire around one wrist and tied it to the arm of the chair before working on the other end. As much as I tried, I couldn’t loosen it.
“When I get out of this—”
He grabbed my face with one hand and shoved a cheek retractor into my mouth.
“I assure no half-turn will be harmed in the making of this video,” Roscoe said as he turned the chair toward the camera and got down on one knee. “Rosebud798, thanks fer the twenty. This one’s fer you.” He ran his long tongue up and down my shaft, soaking everything in his spit.
My eyes rolled back as he went to work, and all I could do was moan incoherent words while spittle roped down my chin, as the device he used made it impossible to close my mouth or swallow properly.
This wasn’t at all what he usually did during foreplay; instead, it was as if his goal was getting me off as fast as possible, even going as far as slipping a finger into my ass.
Thankfully, he had trimmed and smoothed out his claws earlier today.
I jerked, tilting my head back as I got closer, grateful that Roscoe was putting a quick end to this. With one final shudder, I moaned out, fully expecting release, but instead, he pulled away at the last second. The red haze returned as I realized what he was doing.
“Oooo, he’s all riled up now,” Roscoe said, giving a concerned look toward the camera.
The fake sentiment didn’t last long as a wicked smile snaked up his maw.
“Want me to do it again? You know these guys get dangerous when you tease ‘em too much.” He squinted at my phone. “Hell yeah. Fifty viewers.”
He started sucking my dick again, and I got this strange feeling, like sandpaper rubbing beneath my skin. Predictably, I was on the brink and Roscoe pulled away. This time, a warbling howl left my throat. The rage coursing through my body was so intense I could hear my own pulse in my ears.
“Yer doin’ great. They love it,” he whispered, and licked the crook of my neck. Standing again, he turned back toward the camera. “Ah shit, that’s a good idea, ThisIsAdamCodylol420. I never met a half-turn that didn’t love a bit of piss play. You guys wanna see that?”
My eyes went wide, and I rapidly shook my head at Roscoe. It seemed Adam wanted a war, and once this was over, that was exactly what he was going to get. How was he even watching the stream? His phone was in here.
“He wants it. Don’t you want it, you frustrated little monkey?” He held up a finger and got even more excited. “Oh! I know what’ll make this better.” He trotted over to my laptop and pulled up my PearTunes account. “Ever heard this song before?”
An acoustic guitar started playing in a familiar tune, before a bass guitar layered in with clapping. Roscoe gripped his dick with one hand as he shuffled playfully around the chair to the beat. Then he started singing the lyrics to Stuck in the Middle with you.
I let out a shrieking yell I’m sure the neighbors could hear as I struggled in vain to loosen the cords.
As he continued singing, Roscoe swung left, letting loose a stream of urine that soaked my chest. He was actually doing it. Of all the shit he’d pulled. Once I killed him, Adam was next.
The stream of piss went the other way when he belted more of the lyrics, this time getting into my mouth.
I let out a gurgled scream of rage, the room almost blood-red as the sandpapery feeling on my skin got worse.
He kept his cock pointed at my chest, pissing while thrusting his hips in time with the music.
“Here I am, stuck in the—”
With an ear-splitting snap, the arm of the chair separated, and I pounced upward, breaking the other arm while holding the detached piece of wood in my hand. Before Roscoe could react, I leapt onto his back and began beating him repeatedly over the head.
“Shit! Cody, I’m sorry!”
There were only flashes of light and a few grunts and words, but it was all so hazy. The detached chair arm finally broke, but that didn’t deter me from clinging to him with my claws as I punched him over and over again. He hobbled to the camera and gave a shaky thumbs up.
“That’s all the time we have for today—ow—and, uh hopefully you come back and watch us again,” Roscoe said before ending the stream. He was able to reach the nape of my neck and give it a squeeze, which made my entire body go limp.
“Calm down, Cody.” He held my arms in place, and the angry haze subsided. “Damn, I didn’t think you’d get that upset.”
I didn’t respond at first, my head swimming as though I’d just gotten off a Tilt-a-Whirl.
“What the hell just happened?”
He let me go and sat on our mattress while rubbing his head, which was bleeding a little. “I guess I went a bit too far. Next time, I’ll have to make sure to tie you up better.”
I limped over to the bedroom door, my dripping shirt leaving a beaded trail. “Do werewolves grow things back?”
It took Roscoe a few seconds to respond. “Whhyyy?”
“Let’s say that tonight, when you fall asleep, I cut something off with a chef’s knife. Will it grow back?”
“Okay, Cody. I know yer upset, but… man, I’m feelin’ kind of woozy.”
I turned around, grimacing. “You should go to sleep,” I growled before walking into the hall toward the bathroom, holding the broken chair arm. “I’ve got a half-turn to beat the shit out of.”
An hour later
I sat on the couch in a bathrobe, scrolling through social media while Roscoe was either giving me space or sleeping off a mild concussion.
Adam had hightailed it out of the house before I could get to him, and Austin was gone too.
The quiet was a wonderful change of pace from the rushing blood through my ears earlier.
Taking in a deep breath, I looked down at the thicker, fur-like hair covering my arms and chest. It wasn’t far along like Adam’s, but my body had definitely undergone some kind of change. Even my teeth felt a little sharper.
Cautious footfalls crept through the hallway, stopping at the bathroom as the door shut.
“You better clean all the piss off that floor,” I shouted from the couch to no response.
The toilet flushed, and the bathroom door opened. Sluggish footsteps grew louder until a regretful-looking werewolf poked his head out from around the corner.
“We uh… we got like a thousand followers off that,” he said, his ears sinking off to the side. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry! You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?”
“We just made five grand! You bet I would!”
“Wait, what? Are you for real?”
“People loved it.”
“You were reenacting that scene in Reservoir Dogs while pissing on me. How the hell did that get a thousand followers?”
“Maybe it was the dynamic,” he said, plopping down next to me. I snarled, and he scooted a little farther away. “The angrier you got, the more people loved it. Comedy and porn. That’s somethin’ ya don’t see every day.”
“I don’t care how much money we made. If you ever do something like that again, I may hold true to my threat earlier.”
Roscoe grinned.
“I’m not joking.”
“Look, I’m genuinely sorry. I thought you’d find it funny. Hell, I’ll let you pee on me next time. How’s that sound?”
“Why are these words still coming out of your mouth right now? I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t even want to remember it. As far as we’re concerned, it never happened.”
He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.
“You’re also going to give me two-thirds of that money.”
“Wait a minute! That’s not what we agreed on.”
There was a dim orange reflection on Roscoe’s face from my glowing eyes. This was happening way too frequently, and with all that had just transpired, I was starting to worry.
The front door slammed open, and Adam and Austin stomped inside, yelling at one another.
“It’s because your little ass is mine. Kuu rules.”
“I’m over your bullshit, Austin.”
“I fuck you, what? Ten times a day? That’s still not enough for you?”
I rubbed my head, wishing I could go back to the quiet house moments ago. “What’s wrong with you guys now?”
“Let me ask you something,” Austin said, standing in front of the couch. “Would you go out and fuck half the town, or stay true to your kuu mate?”
I cast a glance at Roscoe. “Right now, I don’t want to fuck anyone. At all. Probably ever again.”
Austin sniffed the air. “Did someone piss in here?”
Adam let out a laugh but quickly slunk away once I settled my glare on him.
The next day
It was breezy and cool, and the air had a sweet smell to it.
The first day of fall had been a week ago, but it hadn’t felt like it until now.
I walked barefoot through the yard, stopping short of the woods.
The last encounter I’d had out there replayed in my head, and I kept that gem in my pocket.
I still didn’t understand what it was, and there was only one werewolf in town that likely knew the answer.
All the blood rushed from my face when I realized I’d forgotten to go back to see the mayor yesterday. In a panic, I rushed inside to throw on a fresh shirt before slipping into a pair of shoes.
“What’s wrong with you?” Roscoe asked, holding another mug of coffee.
“I’ll be back later.” I stopped and examined the half-empty pot of coffee on the counter. “That’s your last cup. I mean it.”
“Yer killin’ me here. I can’t drink, I can’t smoke weed, and now I can’t have coffee.”
“That’s because you have no self-control.” I grabbed his wrist, checking his pulse. “You’re shaking. How much did you drink?”
“We may need more coffee beans again.”
“That’s it. I’m cutting you off. For real this time.”
“I’m maybe a hundred freakin’ years old. You can’t tell me what to do.” Roscoe spoke so fast his tongue could barely keep up with his words. He then let out a rapid bout of laughter before taking another sip.
“Yeah,” Adam cut in, snaking his way next to Roscoe. He took the werewolf’s broad arms in his and leaned his head against him.
“You know what? Go ahead and drink the rest. And after that, why don’t you take Adam to the bedroom.” I leaned in and whispered in Roscoe’s ear. “Do to him what you did to me yesterday. For the fans.”
Adam grinned. “Giving up already?” He looked up at Roscoe. “So, what are we doing, big daddy? I mean, Professor Roscoe.”
“Oh boy, yer gonna love it. Go grab a chair from the dining room and uh, I need to get somethin’ from the garage.”
I opened the door, grinning as I stepped outside.
Being a half-turn had its perks, despite the numerous drawbacks, one of them being stamina. Whether it was hours cleaning the house or a ten-minute sprint to town without having to stop to catch my breath, I couldn’t deny how much more physically capable I was now.
I slowed to a light jog upon reaching the city hall building.
There weren’t many people around except for a man in a black suit sitting outside on the bench smoking a cigar.
He had ashy dark-brown hair and a black five o’clock shadow, kind of contrasting one another.
He looked both old and young, mature eyes and graying hair combined with smooth brown skin.
I’d never see a middle-aged man so gorgeous in my life.
I nearly tripped over the unevenly set sidewalk while trying to check him out without him noticing.
As I approached the door, I gave it a tug, but it held tight.
“It is locked,” the man on the bench said in a slightly familiar accent. “It was open yesterday, though.”
“Thanks,” I replied, taking a few steps back before turning around. The trip wasn’t a complete waste, because I still had to replace the coffee Roscoe used up. I started back the way I’d come when I heard the man behind me stand.
“The next time I tell you to meet at a certain time, I expect you to show up.”
I froze. A warm breath pulsed against the back of my neck, and with it came the scent of strong tobacco and rich, spicy cologne. The man had somehow appeared only a few inches away from me. When I turned, a quick flash of silver in his irises betrayed who he was.
“Mayor?”
He grinned and took a few quick puffs of his cigar, blowing the smoke away from us. “Have a seat.” The man gave me a stern look. “I have important matters to discuss with you, Mr. Schultz.”